


Heroes Die Here

by whalehuntingboyfriends



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - GTA, Angst, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, OT6, platonic danvin, so much angst oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-03-17 23:30:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 139,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3547784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/pseuds/whalehuntingboyfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin and Dan grow up closer than brothers, in a bad town full of bad people, clinging to their ambitions of making a change - until fate and circumstance pull them apart.</p><p>Both think the other is gone forever, so the last thing they expect is to reunite on opposite sides of the law. And with the Fake AH Crew about to pull the heist of the century, it’s the worst time possible for Gavin’s past to come breathing down his neck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

America fucking sucked.

Dan had been here one damn day and already none of his charging cords worked, he'd offended numerous people on the way from the airport to the taxi to his apartment building by not tipping them properly, and now – to top things off – he was half an hour late on his first bloody day of work.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Gruchy,” the man at the head of the board room growled when he finally, rather sheepishly slunk into the conference room of the Achievement City FBI Precinct, juggling a briefcase in one hand and a half-finished coffee in the other.

He'd intended to sweep in all suave and Sherlock-like, bundled up as he was against the winter weather in a high-collared coat and scarf. Instead he rather awkwardly fumbled his way inside and took a seat at the end of the table. The half a dozen men and women sitting around the table were staring at him with unabashed curiosity.

At the head of the room stood Special Agent Lynton Coal, staring at him with unamused disapproval. Dan had spoken to him several times on the phone and on conference call while arranging to come here. He looked far meaner in person; an eggheaded, stout man whose severe eyebrows well made up for his lack of hair. Though he was staring at Dan rather coldly, he knew the man was good at his job – he'd reviewed his case files – and knowing they'd be working closely together over the next few weeks if not months, he forced a smile.

“Sorry,” he said, sinking down into the chair.

God, he was a mess today.

He'd only flown in yesterday afternoon and the jetlag was catching up to him. It was odd, because travel didn't normally take much out of him. He was used to skipping all over the place – between England and Europe, elsewhere when he was in the army. He was adaptable – it came with not having any roots. Nothing to keep him in one particular place.

 _Just tired_ , he thought. Too long alone. But he was here now and ready to focus, and after a moment Agent Coal sighed and turned to address the rest of the room.

“Everyone, this is Detective Sergeant Daniel Gruchy from the Oxford PD. He's the one who ran down a bunch of Ramsey's contacts over in England. He's been working in gang activity a couple of years now and we reckon a bunch of it could be related to what's going on here, so he's been sent over to assist.”

There were nods from around the table and even a couple of smiles. Coal glanced down at the notes in front of him and seemed to see fit to dismiss the meeting. He sent everyone from the room except Dan and then turned to him with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, though Dan got the impression that he wasn't so much unhappy to be working with him as just a generally unfriendly sort of person.

“Your flight alright?” he asked, and Dan nodded.

“Fine.”

“Then let's get down to business.” He ushered Dan over to stand beside him and flipped open a laptop on the table in front of him. “How much do you know about the Fake AH Crew?”

Dan gave a wry smile. He'd been sent most of this information already but it never hurt to refresh, especially when he knew Coal had been hunting this lot down for the better part of three or four years now.

“I know that the boy I nabbed back in England – Ben King – was working for a man here called Geoff Ramsey. That he runs a criminal empire just about bigger than any other one in the country. That his contacts over in England have been giving us a shitload of trouble for a while. Fuck, we still haven't worked out how they managed to break into the most secure vault in London.”

“That's nothing compared to what this lot have been doing here in Achievement City,” Coal said grimly. “You saw the case files I sent over. Eight heists this year alone – all of them successful, worth millions of dollars and the lives of a dozen of my men. And we've still laid barely a finger on them. We suspect they have rats in law enforcement and hundreds of people all over the city under their rule. But we have made some progress. We know his main players now.”

Dan raised his eyebrows as Coal brought up a number of images on the screen.

“Ramsey's the head of the operation.” He pointed to a picture on the screen that Dan recognised immediately; he'd been shown it many times as he prepared for the trip over here. A middle aged man with a distinctive handlebar moustache, Geoff Ramsey was a hard man to miss, and not just for his facial hair. There was a rather manic look in his ice-blue eyes, something wildly exhilarated that made Dan frown. Few things made him sicker than criminals who so deeply _enjoyed_ what they were doing.

Coal was scowling at the picture too. “We've run up against each other a couple of times and I've got the scars to prove it,” he grunted. Dan glanced over at him and nodded.

“Ramsey's second in command is a bit more slippery,” Coal said then. “We have a first name – Jack – but that's it, no pictures. Whenever they pull heists he's always on driver duty. From what we can tell he handles Ramsey's money, buying and selling properties, vehicles, weapons – he's the treasurer. Everything Ramsey does seems to go through him, so. He's important.”

“His inner circle,” Dan mused, and Coal nodded.

“Yeah – there's six of them, a close knit bunch – they're the ones who've been terrorising the city for so long. All the rest are just hires – these are the ones we've really got to bust.”

“Who are the rest of them then?” Dan asked.

Another set of pictures, this time of a man about Dan's own age, from what he could tell. The pictures were taken in motion, security camera glimpses of what looked to be some sort of heist. Dan could see the bright flare of explosions in the background of the image and pulled a face. The guy was short, curly-haired and freckle-faced, and like Ramsey he was grinning wildly, seeming full of glee at the havoc he was wreaking around him with what looked a hell of a lot like a grenade launcher in his hands.

“Michael Jones,” Coal said. “He's on explosives. And by God do they have a lot of explosives.”

Dan grimaced; he'd been shown the numbers, the sheer cost of the destruction these guys had wrought across the city over the years.

“Ramsey's two mercenaries,” Coal continued then, bringing up more images. “Don't know their names but we know their aliases. They're pretty big names in the crime... _community_ here, so to speak.”

“Brownman and Vagabond,” Dan muttered; he'd heard of them too. Especially Vagabond, who stared out at him from another security cam pic, the dead black eyes of his skull mask boring directly into the camera.

“That guy,” Coal spat, pointing to him, “Is fucking insane. Even before he joined up with Ramsey he was one of the biggest hit men in the country. And now with Ramsey's resources at his back he's gotten even worse. That other kid-” He pointed to Brownman, a smaller figure whose face Dan couldn't quite make out under the combined force of a hood and a plainer white mask - “Not such a psycho but an excellent shot. Plays sniper on most of their heist runs.”

A moment of silence fell in the room. Dan looked at the array of photos on the screen. Guns, blood, stacks of money, cars and buildings blowing up all over the gaff. Fuck, it hadn't even been this bad in London. The Fake AH Crew's operations there had been rather more subtle.

 _What the hell have I gotten myself into_?

Still, below everything burned a fierce desire to take them down. If anything it was a challenge, what he'd been waiting for – the chance to rid the world of what were obviously six very, very bad people.

 _Six_.

“Who's the last guy?” he asked, and Coal's lips twitched a bit.

“He's the kicker. We can't find _shit_ on him – not a name, not an alias, not even where he came from. We know background on Jones and some of the others. This guy? Zilch.” He pulled up another set of pictures. Glimpses of a slender figure making his way about – on heists, heading into shifty looking buildings, getting in and out of cars. Just scraps of things. Sometimes he was in a suit, or a dress shirt, or body armour, sometimes dressed more casually.

Every single time he was wearing a mask.

It varied; on heists they were silly ones, animal masks usually, but the rest were quite plain. Enough to be frustrating, to cover his face and quite successfully conceal his identity.

“He helps out on heists,” Coal said. “But mostly he's Ramsey's frontman. If Jack handles the money, this guy handles the people. Employs new guys, makes deals.” A humourless smile tugged at his lips. “Makes house calls with Vagabond if someone crosses them.”

“And you don't know anything at all about who he is,” Dan said, and Coal shook his head.

“We were hoping you could help with that, actually,” he said. “We can trace back the others. They have history in this country. We've only heard this guy's voice – he's English.” A laugh. “Should be right up your alley, right?”

“Right,” Dan scoffed, and Coal sighed, pushing the laptop back across the table.

“Anyway. Go set up your office, get settled in. I'll show you what we're working on in a bit. The crew's been oddly quiet lately but there's a bit of activity that makes me think they're planning something else.”

Dan nodded, and Coal swept out of the room, leaving him standing alone. He drummed his fingers against the desk for a moment, glancing at the laptop screen again. His six targets. His gaze zeroed in on the frontman, already running over names in his mind of English organised crime members who'd dropped off the map, who might have shown up here as part of Ramsey's crew.

_Who are you?_

 

* * *

 

Dan had been given an office near the main bullpen. While he was glad to have his own room, two of the walls were made of glass and he felt a little bit like a zoo exhibit or some sort of exotic fish, because everyone else kept glancing through the window at him and it made him rather self conscious.

He didn't have much to set up, not being one to bring any personal items to work, and for the better part of the morning he was occupied just reading up on the Fake AH Crew, on the past encounters the FBI had had with them, the heists they'd pulled, quietly drawing his own connections between what had happened here and what he'd seen over in England. It had taken him nearly eight months but he'd come out fruitful, bagging King before he could split after the success of the vault heist that had gotten Ramsey's English contacts several million dollars worth of gold and the personal valuables of numerous London higher-ups.

A ruckus from out in the bullpen drew his attention and he looked up to see, through the window, Coal standing shouting furiously down at one of the female agents as she sat at her computer. He couldn't tell what the scolding was about, but Coal seemed livid, gesticulating wildly and not letting her get a word in edgewise. Everyone else was awkwardly avoiding looking at him and Dan started to do the same when a rap at the door caught his attention.

“Hey English,” a young man said – he'd been on the boardroom team, Dan remembered. He waved a handful of folders. “Brought you more files.”

“Thanks,” Dan replied. The guy was looking at him curiously as he set the files down on his desk. “What?”

“Nothing, sorry. I'm Mike, by the way. It's interesting someone new being brought in.” The man rocked back on his heels and raised his eyebrows. “These guys have been giving us the run-around for ages. You caught Ben King right?”

“Yeah,” Dan said.

“Well, he's a small piece in a big puzzle. Those six guys, the main crew? They're fucking notorious around here. They pretty much own the city. They've been making fools of us for so long.” He shook his head. “It'll be good to have a new perspective, anyway – and someone else in charge for a bit.”

Dan grimaced, glancing out the window at Coal, who was still screaming at the female agent. Mike followed his gaze and pulled a face.

“Is he always like that?” Dan asked, and Mike nodded.

“Yeah. Ramsey hates him, you know. Wants him dead.”

“What, they've got a personal vendetta?”

“Something like that,” Mike said. “Like I said. The guy's made a fucking fool of us, Coal especially. But we actually caught one of them once – Michael Jones? We intercepted him doing a job for Ramsey. I wasn't there but apparently Coal got him pinned down and didn't even take him back to the precinct. Just _whaled_ on him trying to get information out of him. But Vagabond was nearby with some of Ramsey's other muscle and came in and rescued him. Coal got shot but managed to get out of there. He was in hospital for two weeks. Full recovery though. And Jones got away.”

“He should have arrested him and taken him back to the precinct,” Dan replied. Maybe it was just engrained in him from the military that orders and protocol should be followed, but it seemed common sense. You catch a high profile target like that, you don't stand around beating them up. You get them back somewhere secure.

Mike just shrugged. “I guess. Anyway, Ramsey hates him now – he takes care of his own so he wasn't happy. He's had it out for Coal ever since. Even sent mercenaries to his house once. Guy can take care of himself though.”

There was a rather awkward pause. Mike got a funny look in his eyes and then said, slowly, “Coal reckons heaps of the agents here are dirty, you know?”

“Oh yeah?” Dan replied, and Mike nodded.

“Yeah. The ACPD is full of rats but even in the bureau here – there might be a couple. Not just in with the Fake AH Crew – the other gangs in the city as well. Some they put behind bars, others they keep around. Buy drugs off them, or sell them information. Turn a blind eye when need be. Things like that.”

“I see,” Dan replied. He wasn't quite sure what Mike was trying to tell him here; there was something odd in his voice like he was trying to gauge Dan's reaction, but Dan didn't know what he wanted him to say.

There was obviously some sort of weird internal politics going on here between the gangs, the police and the FBI, and he hadn't the faintest idea what it was about. That sort of thing was way outside his comfort zone. Put him out on the field and he knew exactly what he was doing – his military experience made sure of it, running and facilitating operations to bring down any criminal here or over the pond.

Fussing about with these people, the paper chain of authority and FBI red tape – that he was awkward with, preferring to take orders when it came to desk work. Mike just shrugged, slinking back out of the room, and Dan's gaze drifted again to Coal – the man was returning to his own office now, still fuming.

 

* * *

 

He was called back to the boardroom with all the others later that afternoon.

“That new guy we got, the one who's in with the weapons dealers – he just got back to us,” Mike announced. “The Fake AH Crew just ordered in a bunch of explosives and ammo. That's the third lot in the last week.”

“We got eyes on the frontman an hour or so ago as well,” Coal said. “He was meeting with some helicopter guy.”

“Ammo and vehicles,” Dan mused. “Where are your notes on their other recent activity?”

Coal handed it over to him wordlessly and Dan scanned the list of sightings with a frown. For the most part the crew, it seemed, were very adept at hiding their transactions, but Coal had wormed in on a few.

They'd been pulling heists on the regular for a few months now, reeling in money. Accumulating explosives that they didn't seem to have used yet. Vehicles too.

It was very similar to what he'd seen in England, and Dan frowned.

“They're planning for something. Something big. King and his guys were doing this too – and then they hit the vault. It's preparation work. What the hell could they need a helicopter for?”

“The vault was about money,” Coal began, and Dan nodded.

“Yeah – and a bloody lot of it! Whatever they're doing it's expensive.” He frowned a bit. “When I caught King he had plans and stuff, a catalogue. The gold was on it – I think there was mention of a cargobob too. Could be what the frontman was getting from the helicopter guy. Guess it's shit they need for whatever they're planning to do.”

Coal's head shot up. “What was next on the list?” he demanded. “We can try and intercept them.”

Dan nodded; it only took him a moment to fetch the file and they scanned it thoroughly.

“More funds,” Dan determined after a minute; they had almost everything else but they were still actively pulling heists, which meant the last thing they needed was money. He suspected King had broken into the vault by paying off a hell of a lot of people and whatever it was the crew were planning next, it seemed they'd need to do the same. “They'll be hitting another bank I reckon.”

“We can have people on the lookout,” Coal began, but Dan shook his head.

“Better than that. Before any of the hits in London King would call back to someone over here – some guy called Kdin Jenzen. Seemed like he gave the sign-off that whatever they were doing they were good to go ahead with – checked to make sure no one was suspicious or anything.”

“Jenzen,” Coal grunted - “We know him. One of Ramsey's hirelings.”

“You have eyes or ears on him?”

“Yeah, but we didn't know what he did until now. He's usually pretty careful,” Coal said. He was already turning to two of the others. “Get on it! Eyes on Jenzen! See what he's been looking into the last few days. We might be able to work out where they're gonna hit before they even get there.” A rather manic grin spread across his face. “Then for once they won't be the ones taking us by surprise.”

 

* * *

 

The furnished apartment he'd been given, in downtown Achievement City reasonably close to the precinct, felt like a hotel room. Dan hadn't even unpacked his suitcase yet, just left it at the foot of the bed, and when he got back in at the end of that day he didn't bother taking his shoes off before he flopped down against the mattress.

When they'd suggested sending him over to America he'd agreed immediately. Had thought the change of scenery might do him some good.

But it hadn't, rather, he felt worse than ever. For the last few months a weird sort of melancholy had been building up in him. Some sort of innate self-doubt that since he'd left the army he wasn't where he was supposed to be.

 _Stop it. Remember what you're fucking doing this for_. Since he'd come back and made the switch from soldier to detective he'd put a number of criminals behind bars.

_Make it better. Remember?_

He checked his phone and smiled a little when he caught a text from the inspector he worked under back in England, making sure he was doing okay. His boss was a nice guy but Dan suddenly felt lonelier than ever. He had friends, sure, among the rest of the Oxford PD and others he'd later met in London, but no one he was super close to.

He hadn't had anyone like that, not since he got back from Afghanistan. Not since...

Closing his eyes, he shook off the memories and rolled off the bed, heading into the kitchen to grab some sort of lonely meal by himself. Mike had offered to take him out to show him around the city but he'd declined, wanting some space to think and catch up more on the case files he still had to read through.

 _You're here now. Make it count_.

  

* * *

 

* * *

 

“Avengers assemble,” Jack cried, as they gathered around the drafting table in Geoff's apartment. Well, if it could be considered 'gathering', it mostly consisted of them dragging themselves reluctantly in from the various places they'd been lounging about while Geoff yelled at them to “Move the fuck along assholes, we need to go through this plan again before tomorrow.”

At Jack's contribution Geoff turned to him with a scowl and pointed his finger. “I told you to stop fucking saying that. This is serious business. Such incredibly serious business.”

“I'm Iron Man,” Gavin shouted, as he always did, bounding up to the table with a grin.

“Shut the fuck up, you're not Iron Man,” Michael replied, laughing as he jostled him.

“You guys do realise the Avengers _stop_ crime,” Geoff pointed out, wearily, then sighed. “ _I'm_ Iron Man.”

“Well who am I then,” Gavin demanded.

“Fucking nobody,” Michael replied. “Fucking Shitty McUseless superhero. I don't even know what your power would be. An enhanced sense of smell maybe. Actually wait, I got it, Captain Nose.”

“Stop the bullying,” Ray muttered, as Gavin spluttered indignantly.

“Michael,” he protested, though he couldn't quite hide his grin even as the others broke down laughing. Michael reached out as though to flick his nose and he squirmed away, squawking.

“ _Why you gotta be so rude_?” he sang out, and managed to hit a pitch so frightfully off key that a moment of stunned silence fell in the room.

“Thank you Gavin,” Geoff said finally. “That was... haunting. Can we please get back to business now?”

They sobered up, gathering around the table again, and Gavin – having danced away to avoid Michael – came up by Ryan's side. The other man smiled down at him and he smiled back before turning his attention to the plans laid out on the table, a shiver of excitement running down his spine. The night before a heist always felt a bit strange; with all the planning and preparation done in advance there was little to do but sit around and _wait_ – or run over things again, as they were doing now.

“City Road,” Geoff said, gesturing at the map. “Fucking annoying lack of vantage spots so we're all going in except you, Jack, you're getaway as usual. Ryan, Michael, you're on the front, bust in and keep everyone down while Ray and I get the money from the back. Our hired guns will be out on the street; if something goes wrong they'll hold off the police until we can get away. Gav, you'll be up on the landing here watching the roads and coordinating us.”

“Alone and outside all the action,” Gavin muttered, a little put out – he normally did far more than that on heists.

“Suck it up, crybaby,” Michael said, and Gavin pulled a face at him.

“I'll suck you up,” he shot back. “Except not, cause, you know. Gag reflex.”

“We pull this off and I'll give you all the action you want tomorrow night,” Geoff cut in, with a sly grin; Gavin laughed and grinned back, mollified.

“Kdin cleared everything?” Jack asked then, and Geoff nodded.

“Yeah. We should be set.”

They ran through the bank layout, escape routes and a few emergency meeting points before putting the plans away and returning to hanging out around the apartment. Gavin loitered a moment by the table, looking down at the map and frowning a bit. He wasn't one to get nervous before jobs, not anymore, but for weeks and weeks now they'd been building up to what would be one of the biggest heists they'd ever pulled, gathering funds and resources. This job would be one of the last few things they needed to do before they had everything ready.

The pressure was certainly on, and it didn't help that the police seemed to have stepped up their game recently.

They'd managed to intercept a few of their operations, causing trouble that the Fake AH Crew really didn't need, and while Geoff was still so powerful as to be very far from being busted, over in England things were a different story. Their operations there had come to sudden grinding halt a few months ago when the police managed to crack down on them, and Ben had got got – they still hadn't been able to get him out of wherever it was the police had him on lockdown. He wouldn't spill on them, Gavin knew, but he worried about the younger man.

His frown deepened a bit. It had been a long time since he thought about home.

“Alright Gav?” Ray asked quietly, materialising by his side the way he always did with his weird sneaky mercenary shit.

Gavin jumped a bit, then turned to him with a grin. “I'm top. Excited,” he said, and Ray smiled a bit.

“Me too. Come join the rest of us.”

He grabbed Gavin's hand and led him back into the main room of the apartment, where the others were hanging out on the various couches, watching the television. Gavin flung himself onto Michael's lap, accidentally elbowed him in the spleen and was summarily shoved off and onto the floor, where he whined for a moment before settling himself at Ryan's feet.

It was oddly comfortable like this, hanging out together – Geoff curled up against Jack on the love seat, Michael's arm slung around Ray's shoulders. Tomorrow they might be about to try and make off with hundreds of thousands of dollars, but for tonight they were just six guys _cuddling_ , and the thought made his lips twitch.

Ryan's hand came down, squirrelling idly through Gavin's hair and scratching at his scalp, and he leaned into the touch like a cat, for the moment oddly content. His thoughts turned away from England. _This_ was home now.There was nothing left over there for him, anyway.

“Change the fucking channel, this is bullshit,” Geoff roared presently, upon their favourite contestant being kicked out of Master Chef, and Ryan fumbled for the remote - “We're not watching fucking Toddlers and Tiaras,” Michael said – before settling on the news.

The sight of a very familiar piece of artwork had them all perking up, interested.

“More information continues to come in about the rediscovered Rembrandt etching,” the newsreader announced. “Art experts from all over the world have been vying to get the chance to examine what has now been confirmed to be an authentic copper etching plate used by the great artist himself, along with several original prints found in the recently discovered archives of an Italian duke. The plate is still in excellent condition and the rarity of this new find is expected to place its worth at several million dollars.”

“I still reckon it just looks like a lump of rusty metal,” Gavin piped up, and the others all jeered.

“ _A lump of rusty metal_ , it's fucking _Rembrandt_ man, he was the shit,” Michael said. And then added, “Apparently,” because in truth he did not know much either, Gavin knew, and he stuck his tongue out at him.

“How much do you know about art, Gavin?” Ryan asked, and Gavin leaned back against his legs, tilting his head back to stare at him upside down.

“I know plenty Rye-bread. Bloody Van Gogh painted those sunflowers one time didn't he?”

“He also cut his ear off,” Ray supplied, this being the single piece of knowledge he had on the man.

A rather nerdy looking art historian took his place on the screen, a weedy little man with a thick Texan drawl. “It is really quite extraordinary to discover a hitherto unknown piece of work by such a historically significant artist. Rembrandt's etching techniques were revolutionary and to be able to add a new piece to his established repertoire is a very rare thing, and of course very exciting.”

The newsreader promptly returned to inform them that “The whole world has been on tenterhooks to find out more about this incredible new piece of art.”

“The whole world will be _losing its shit_ when we steal the damn thing,” Geoff said, and Gavin cheered – leading the others to join in too – pumping a fist in the air.

“It'll be the heist of the fucking century!” Michael cackled. “Can you imagine. People will be _freaking out_. It's not just worth a shitload of money, it's high profile as fuck. Definitely one for the history books.”

“One for the history books and it was all Gavin's drunken idea,” Ray laughed.

“You mean this was all my _cunning plan_ ,” Gavin replied indignantly.

“Yes Gav,” Jack said. “That's why when Ryan was all ' _hey isn't this interesting they found a new Rembrandt_ ' you immediately replied – while sloshing whiskey everywhere – ' _wouldn't it be funny if we stole the bloody thing_.' And then laughed so hard you nearly threw up.”

“I was being serious,” Gavin protested.

“You were being drunk,” Michael said.

“Hey, we're doing it now, aren't we?” Geoff pointed out, and Gavin grinned at him; he, too, had an unfortunate habit of coming up with wildly ridiculous plans while intoxicated. Although, as with Gavin's idea (which admittedly had been little more than a joke at the time), they sometimes managed to rework them into something feasible once morning had come and the hangovers had worn off a little.

But it really was hysterical. All that had been in the news for weeks was this newly discovered artwork, and here they were about to bloody well _steal it_. It was such a wild idea that he almost couldn't believe it – then again, so many of them were, like the time they'd transported nearly a hundred gold blocks through the city in a port-a-potty (to glorious effect), or that incident with the fire trucks (that one hadn't gone so well).

They were the sort of madcap schemes that no one other than the Fake AH Crew would ever dream of trying to pull off. It was the exhilaration, the thrill of it which made him love both this life and the five men who lived it with him so much. Even now as he looked at Geoff – eyes shining in glee at the mere thought of causing such havoc – he couldn't help the surge of affection in his chest, because Geoff was brilliant and funny and daring and really, really fucking in love with him – they all were.

He turned back to the TV in time to see them reporting on where the etching was now – the big art institution in Achievement City, and it really had been a marvellous convenience that it had been sent to America to be studied – and where it would end up, a museum in the Netherlands initially, probably to later go on tour.

Ryan tapped him on the top of the head and he looked up at him again.

“You meeting with Cwierz soon?” Ryan asked, and Gavin nodded. The high-profile art expert had been quite easily convinced – after a significant offer of payment – to tell them about the route the pieces of art would be taking. Their window of opportunity was quite narrow but Cwierz had already told them about what the convoy and guards would be like. The route was the last thing they needed before they began to put the rest of their preparations together.

“Yeah, just as soon as we get this cash so I can pay him off.”

“Cash,” Ray scoffed. “Why don't you just suck his dick?”

“Sure, Ray. I'll suck his dick and you'll all be well jealous.”

“Of him getting one of your _terrible_ blow jobs?” Michael teased. “Nah.”

They might have just been joking but Gavin felt Ryan's hand fall to his shoulder, fingers tightening possessively, and a moment later the other man was throwing a couch cushion at Ray to end the conversation. Ray attempted to throw one back but swung a bit too wildly and knocked over Michael's glass of beer, precariously balanced on the coffee table, spilling it all over Gavin who was still on the floor.

“ _Ray_ ,” Gavin screeched, and scrambled to his feet to tackle him onto the couch. Ray fell back onto Michael, laughing wildly as he tried to catch Gavin's hands and hold him still; he wasn't quite sure what he was trying to do, perhaps tickle him or something, but pressed together as they were it wasn't long until his lips met Ray's instead and he kissed him into submission, nipping gently at his bottom lip until he opened his mouth and kissed back.

“Is it time for the pre-heist fuck already?” Geoff asked – Gavin pulled back, a stupid grin playing at his lips because he lost himself in it, so often, just how much he loved these men. It could be almost overwhelming.

“Sure is,” Ryan replied. He reached out, grabbed Gavin around the waist and tugged him back off Ray into his own lap – Ray already sitting up and turning to kiss Michael – Jack and Geoff were getting up now to move in closer and Gavin couldn't help but smile, surrounded by all of his boys.

It had been a long, weird journey getting here – moving to America, meeting all the others, _falling_ for them – a long, long way from anything he'd ever imagined doing. But he was here now and things felt solid, stable like he was right where he wanted to be, and _yep, this is definitely home now,_ he thought, and turned to press his lips to Ryan's.

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

Dan had been half expecting Coal to call him in the night with an update if his men came up with a location. But he didn't, and, as it turned out, they only finally traced back Jenzen's movements moments after Dan arrived at work the next morning.

Barely had he set foot in the door than Coal came bustling towards him, brandishing his phone.

“Gruchy! You're just in time. We've got a location.”

“Where?” Dan demanded, immediately on the alert.

“Bank on City Road. We've got teams on the way there – we'll take 'em by surprise the minute they turn up.”

He was already moving to put on body armour – had his gun laid out on the desk beside him.

“You're going in?” Dan asked.

Coal gave a mighty snort. “Of fucking course I'm going in. You are too aren't you?” His eyes zeroed in on Dan and narrowed. “Didn't your inspector tell me you were ex-military?”

“That's right.” Someone was already coming up to him with another set of Kevlar and he reached to take it, already getting into the zone.

Investigations – hunting people down – that was one thing, and he was damn good at it too, but he was still a soldier at the core of it, and it was in the field that he shone. His level of gun training gave him more access to high-risk operations than other detectives generally had, though it seemed like Coal didn't much care that the SWAT forces were meant to be at the forefront of this operation. He was already checking the clip of his gun and turning to Dan with a sneer.

“Time to take Ramsey the fuck down.”

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately it had taken them so long to trace Jenzen – he _was_ careful – that they had only just set out than ACPD radioed in to tell them the heist had already started.

“Fucking damn it,” Coal cursed, slamming a fist against the steering wheel. Had Dan been a less hardened man he may have been terrified by the other's rather... _enthusiastic_ driving. “I wanted to be there to welcome them.”

“They won't be expecting us this soon,” Dan pointed out. “We'll still take them by surprise.”

A standoff was already in motion when they arrived, black clad heavy duty ACPD officers facing off against what seemed like a bunch of hired mercenaries that Ramsey had holding off the street. There was no way they could get through to the bank.

“Where are they? Inside the bank?” Coal demanded of a harried looking officer. They were at the end of the street, back behind a wall away from the worst of the shooting.

The woman nodded. “Yeah – we can't get to them but they know we're here. They have to be about to make a break for it, we've got them outnumbered – Agent you can't go in there!” She grabbed Coal's arm when he tried to push past and roughly tugged him back.

Dan stood watching silently, tense and on edge. Every crack of a gunshot raised his hackles. The urge was there to jump right into the fray and help out – the weight of the gun heavy at his belt – but that wasn't his job, not right now; when they broke through into the bank then he'd move in.

Coal had opened his mouth to snap at the woman but before any of them could do anything, an explosion rang out that rocked the street. Dan instinctively moved to cover the officer, pushing her back against the wall and pressing himself down behind cover as well. Coal stumbled, catching himself next to them-

“What the _fuck_ was that?”

There was yelling and general commotion from outside the bank and Dan darted a glance around the wall.

Someone had thrown a grenade, it seemed, and in doing so accidentally burst a water main. Jets of liquid were spewing into the air and around the area, and it didn't help that a utility pole had fallen down, crushing the windscreen of one of the police cars.

The explosion had forced most of the SWAT team back and the steadily flooding street was not helping. But it had stunned the mercenaries too and as he watched, a small cluster of the law enforcement units broke through and ran into the bank.

The gunfire picked up inside again immediately, and making a snap decision, Dan ran forward. Coal may or may not be qualified to move in on this but he certainly was. He wasn't as stunned from the explosion and he took the opportunity to get close, running up behind one of the police cars and using it for cover as he took down two of the mercenaries, with two shots and a steady hand.

The shooting outside started up again almost immediately and he had to duck back down behind cover. The snap-crack of gunshots around his head making his heart jump and skip, catching his breath in his throat.

Fuck but it was bad here. The gang activity in England wasn't nearly this blatant. A fucking shootout on the streets of London – that just didn't happen. Here it seemed to be just another day. Achievement City really had gone to shit; he'd heard that crime ran rampant here but seeing it happen was something else entirely and only fuelled his resolve to crack down on this case – bring down the Fake AH Crew and get a start on cleaning up this hellhole of a city.

 _Make it better_.

There was a sudden screeching disturbance from a side street. Two armoured cars swung into the road, pulling up right outside the bank. The few mercenaries left standing ran towards them, firing as they went, and as Dan watched three figures ran from the bank. He recognised Ramsey instantly; he was supporting Brownman, one arm around his waist – the younger man was limping, seemed to have been injured somehow. Vagabond was right behind them.

He couldn't get a shot from here, not with the cars in the way, and before he knew it they were swinging away, trying to head off down the road.

“Grenade!” someone yelled suddenly, and Dan dived away immediately, shielding himself behind the car.

It hit even closer this time and blew up two of the SWAT vehicles nearby with a deafening boom that made his ears pop and rattled his teeth. He was terribly shaken for a moment but had the presence of mind to look up – it had been launched from an upper window of the bank and he just caught a glimpse of what he was pretty sure was Michael Jones before the guy ran back inside.

The explosion and chaos had given the two cars enough time to start to get away, the rest of the mercenaries hopping into their own vehicles and making a break for it, and Coal ran into the empty street.

“They're getting away!” he screamed. “Get after them!”

They already were – Coal was jumping into a car, some of the others following.

“Jones is still in the building!” Dan called out to Coal just before the other man slammed the car door – the other man glanced towards him and nodded before driving off.

Dan was useless in a car chase, especially in a foreign country. The other SWAT members were starting to head into the bank but he thought Jones was probably already getting out the back, so he started to run around the side of the building instead-

Only to pause when he caught sight of movement on another building nearby. The streets around them were dead silent, everyone having evacuated or hidden inside early on. His head whipped around and he caught sight of another figure jumping down from a nearby landing, stumbling a little as they hit the ground.

His heart nearly stopped.

It was the frontman.

He was wearing a kevlar vest and had a gun slung over his shoulder, but Dan recognised him immediately; the wild brown hair and slender build was identical to what he'd seen in the photos. He was wearing a very stupid looking ginger cat mask.

Dan sprinted towards him immediately – coming at him from behind, he was facing away down the other street – and he raised his weapon to fire when the man suddenly turned and pulled his own gun.

Neither of them had time to shoot before they collided; Dan moved to tackle the other man and managed to knock his gun out of his hand, though he dropped his own weapon in the process. They both hit the ground and he lunged to pin him down but he was squirmier than anticipated and brought a knee up, kicking Dan hard in the stomach. His body armour absorbed the worst of the blow but it winded him enough for the guy to wriggle out of his grasp and stumble to his feet.

He made for the guns and Dan jumped up and kicked at him before he could. Surprisingly agile, the man dodged and made to punch Dan across the face. He swung his head sideways and the other man just cuffed his ear before Dan charged him again. He slammed him against the wall of the bank and punched him hard, twice, across the face – knocking his mask slightly askew, bloodying his knuckles against the other's teeth. His arm came up, elbow pressing crushingly hard against the other's throat, pinning him against the wall as he let out a choked noise – only to rear back with a shout when he felt a sudden searing pain in his thigh.

He looked down to see that the man had pulled a knife from somewhere and gotten it between them – _stabbed me, he fucking stabbed me –_ he was lucky that the guy didn't have room, pinned as he was, to have gotten it into his gut or up between his ribs.

A great rage overtook him as he felt the blood run down his leg, and as the man lunged towards him again, knife in hand, he dodged away then grabbed him by the wrist and twisted hard. The guy cried out in pain, knife clattering away to the floor, and Dan seized him by the hair with his other hand and slammed his head against the wall, once, twice.

His mask slipped off even more, jarred by the impact, and on a sudden impulse Dan dragged him away from the wall, holding him in front of him, and ripped it off his face-

They both froze, staring at each other, and Dan felt his stomach _drop_ , a sudden cold sickness overtaking him – he was pretty sure his heart actually _stopped_ in his chest because-

No-

_No-_

_It can't be, it fucking can't be-_

_You were_ dead-

There was a nasty gash on the man's forehead where he'd hit the wall, blood streaming down his face and dripping off the tip of his nose. But below that, too-familiar green eyes stared up at him from beneath a blood-matted fringe of hair, the eyes of a man Dan had never thought he'd see again, and he could _see_ the horrified shock in them as the other man recognised him as well and-

_You're dead, you're dead, you're fucking dead-_

The man ripped his wrist from Dan's grasp and Dan was too stunned to try and stop him as he stumbled a few paces back. His eyes were wide and terrified and his face had gone so pale that Dan thought he might throw up. His lips parted and for a moment he looked like he was going to say Dan's name.

Dan himself couldn't speak. His voice and all his words had dried up in his throat. He could do nothing but stare as the man backed away, shaking his head, and then abruptly turned and ran, disappearing around the street corner.

Dan stood still, staring after him. His mind was awhirl and he couldn't pull a single coherent thought from it. He felt cold all over, a terrible chill running down his spine as though he'd been touched by a ghost.

_It couldn't have been him – it's impossible, it's fucking impossible..._

_Gavin?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to rt-cuties, sailorbryant, heylittlehunter, teastainsandpaintbrushes and angelology for helping out with this chapter! Also big thanks to yarpfish for helping me with info about the police stuff :)
> 
> justisaisfine drew this [incredible fanart](http://justisaisfine.tumblr.com/post/123252932132/i-said-id-never-miss-you-but-i-guess-you-never) for the story; thank you so much <3


	2. Chapter 2

Gavin thought he might throw up.

_It can't be – it can't be – it can't be._ It rattled around his head like a mantra as he sprinted down the street. His thoughts were a mess; he vaguely thought he might be heading towards their arranged meeting spot, but he could barely focus on that when he still felt like he'd been hit in the chest with a sledgehammer.

_Dan_.

Oh God, it couldn't have been him – when he'd looked up and finally gotten a look at his attacker's face, for a moment he'd thought he'd been hallucinating.

It had been so long, so _bloody_ long, but even with his childhood friend's face gaunter now, eyes dark and tired – even with a beard – nothing could have prevented Gavin from recognising him. And he'd seen it, the shock in Dan's eyes when he recognised Gavin in turn.

He skidded to a halt as he realised he really didn't know where he was going. He could hear the faint wail of police sirens in the distance, but he'd turned into an alley and he paused now, heaving great ragged gasps. He wasn't even that out of breath but suddenly he felt like he wasn't getting enough air in, his heart slamming too hard in his chest.

He just couldn't wrap his head around it, some part of his brain still insisting that he must have been imagining things because-

_You are dead. You died long ago._

_Why are you here?_

He'd seen the badge. The police kevlar. The fact that Dan had run after him and attacked him before pulling his mask off.

His head hurt, he realised dimly. There was blood running down his face and into his eyes and his throat was sore where Dan's elbow had dug in and suddenly, suddenly his head started swimming and he leaned back against the wall, sinking down to the floor. He was shaking, he realised dimly, and just felt so generally _rattled_ that he had to take a moment to breathe.

The roar of a motorbike's engine had him jumping back to his feet, alarmed. It was Michael who pulled into the alleyway though, on the emergency getaway bike.

“Gav!” he shouted, and then did a double take at the sight of him. “Fucking hell, what happened to you?”

Gavin opened his mouth but suddenly had no answers. Michael reached out, grabbing his wrist and tugging him forward, one hand coming up to cup his cheek. He flinched a bit, sore, and realised only then that in the struggle his earpiece had come out. He'd been so startled by seeing Dan that he hadn't even noticed. The others must have been frantic.

Michael was staring at him now and Gavin had no idea what was showing on his face. After a moment, though, Michael seemed to snap out of it, realising where they were and what they were doing.

He lifted a hand to his own earpiece. “He's fine guys, I found him. We'll meet you at the safe house. Are you concussed?” he demanded, turning to Gavin again. Gavin shook his head.

“No – I don't think so-”

“Then get on, we need to get out of here.” Michael turned back, gripping the handlebars of the bike again, and Gavin scrambled on behind him, arms wrapping around the other's waist. “Fuck, I don't know what happened here, Gav – they knew we were coming.”

He abruptly remembered what they'd been trying to do before the police turned up so unexpectedly fast. “The bank – did you get _anything_?”

“Fuck all except for a bullet in Ray's leg,” Michael replied, and started the bike, speeding off.

Gavin bit his lip, concern overtaking him for a moment, but Michael reached up then, listening on his earpiece again, before shaking his head.

“Wait, no, Ryan says he's fine. Just nicked him.”

It was still a close call, closer than they liked, and Gavin again wondered just how the fuck the cops had managed to catch onto them and arrive so fast. And that, of course, brought his mind right back to Dan again, and he felt another rush of confusion, shock, _fear_.

_Maybe it was a ghost_.

The ridiculous thought hit him out of nowhere yet somehow it seemed to make much more sense than the possibility that Dan actually _was_ alive.

Either way it had dredged up upsetting memories of his friend – things he'd thought he'd long gotten over. His arms tightened around Michael's waist, clinging to him, and not just out of fear of falling off the bike. Having something, some _one_ to hold onto was reassuring, and he pressed his face into his boyfriend's back, breathed in the familiar tang of leather and sweat and gunpowder and let that ground him, even as the streets sped by dizzy-fast around them.  
  


* * *

  
They took a winding route that would have thrown any police trying to follow them off their backs, and it took them long enough that it was afternoon by the time they arrived at one of their safe houses a little way out of the city.

The others were already there when they got inside, sitting about in a pensive silence. Gavin jogged straight to Ray's side – his leg was stretched out on the couch in front of him, a nasty deep gash across his thigh where a bullet had grazed him. It had already been stitched and cleaned up but it made Gavin frown anyway, though when Ray looked up at him it was the other man that pulled a face.

“Jesus, Vav, you look worse than I do.”

The others were already moving to fuss around him and Gavin swallowed, letting Jack guide him to sit down. Ryan was perched in the windowsill, looking out at the front yard, but he turned away now and pulled his mask off. He looked tense, greasepaint still smudged around his eyes and running down his cheeks from sweat.

“Looks like we're in the clear. They sure gave us a chase though.”

“How the fuck did they know we were coming?” Geoff muttered.

He looked annoyed and stressed, and Gavin could hardly blame him. For all their gung-ho attitude they did put a hell of a lot of planning into heists, and it was only because of their meticulous back-up plans that they'd gotten away mostly unscathed today. But it had been a shock – it always was, things suddenly going wrong – and he tried to tell himself that that was why he was still shaking as he sat on the couch with his arms wrapped tightly around himself.

But here in the safe house it suddenly seemed impossible again, for that really to have been Dan. In this normal looking house, sunlight streaming through the windows, the others gathered around him – that ghostly memory seemed very far away. He wondered if he was even remembering it properly. Maybe the guy had just _looked_ like Dan.

Even so, he couldn't get his mind off it, and the others had quickly picked up on his agitation.

“Who did that to you?” Jack asked, as he came over with a washcloth and gripped Gavin gently by the chin, tilting his face up as he started wiping away the drying blood.

Gavin bit his lip and regretted it immediately; it had split when – _Dan_? – when _the man_ punched him, and the motion made it start bleeding again.

“Some cop,” he replied instead.

“Was it Coal?” Geoff demanded, his brows furrowing. “I saw him there.”

“No, he took off after you lot. It was just some guy,” Gavin said. “He caught me coming down to join you.”

“Did you kill him?” Michael asked, and then frowned. “Your mask's gone, did he see your face?”

Gavin froze. Even if it hadn't been Dan, the guy had ripped his mask off and would have seen who he was – one of his biggest defences, the same as Ryan and Jack, was the fact that the police still didn't know what his face looked like.

And he should tell them, he should damn well tell them, but suddenly he felt terribly uncertain because even if it _was_ Dan-

Even if it had, somehow, been him, he was working with the bloody _FBI_ for crying out loud. That made things far, far more complicated than Gavin even wanted to think about. And he had to... to sort this out for himself first before he pulled the others into it.

He didn't know what to do, and on impulse – and for the first time in a very, very long time – he lied to the others.

“He didn't see my face,” he replied. “I took it off myself because my head hurt.”

They nodded, shoulders slumping in relief. The ease with which they believed him made him feel suddenly sick because _oh God, oh God_ , this whole situation was just _fucked up_. Dan should not have been there. _Dan should not have been there_.

Jack's hand was still on his shoulder, holding him still as he cleaned his face, a warm, reassuring weight that Gavin tried to focus on. It was difficult; his head felt like it was splitting in two, his brain seeming to pulse in time with his rapid heart, nearly pounding out of his skull. Why did it hurt so much? He'd had worse injuries than this and laughed them off.

Geoff was still looking at him in concern, but after a moment he turned away.

“Well, this fucks up our plans,” he said. “Didn't get a cent before we were run out of there.”

“Looks like you might be sucking Cwierz's dick after all,” Ray joked; Gavin glanced at him and tried to force a smile but it came out weak.

“Hey,” Ryan said, noticing. He stepped forward and looked between Geoff and Gavin. “We'll get the money somehow. Right now I'm more concerned with how the fuck they managed to know we were coming.”

Geoff nodded. “Agreed. I'll call up Kdin and see what happened. In the mean time we need to know how many of our mercs made it out of there, whether the cops are still on our trail, that sort of thing. But Ryan's right, we'll still find a way to pay off Cwierz. This doesn't have to put a major hiccup in our plans.”

The Rembrandt wouldn't be in America much longer so they had a very tight window to operate in. It really put the pressure on.

Gavin couldn't care less about those plans right now, though. If what he'd seen was true they had far more pressing issues than what he was going to pay the art expert.

Jack taped a bandage over the wound on Gavin's head, then turned towards Ray.

“You okay?” he asked. “That leg going to give us trouble?”

“Nah,” Ray replied immediately, already shooting him a double thumbs up. “I've worked jobs on worse than this. I'll be fine by the time we pull the big heist.”

“Okay then,” Geoff said. “Still, you stay here and let that rest a bit. We won't go back to the flat till later on, so lie low for a while while we see what's happening out there.”

He pulled his phone out and wandered off, already dialling. Ryan stepped forward and kissed Ray quickly on the forehead, eyes scanning over him in concern before he put his mask back on and left through the front door, presumably to keep watch. Jack turned to Gavin then, reaching out and patting his hand.

“Go shower. Your hair's full of blood. Once you're done I'll stick something more permanent on that head wound of yours.”

Gavin nodded, mutely. Jack frowned a little, and Gavin could tell he was still worried about how quiet he was being. The other man reached up and touched his cheek, thumb worrying over the bruises painted across his jawline, but he let his hand drop and Gavin was glad that for now he seemed inclined not to pry.

They kept spare changes of clothes in all their safe houses, and they'd stayed in this one before – but still, as he went to fetch them, he felt a little unsettled by being here. He was shaken up enough that he just wanted to go _home_ , back to their apartment, and being here in this temporary base of theirs reminded him of when he'd first come to America, when he'd skipped about from place to place being hired out by Burnie to whoever needed him before he'd finally settled into a permanent position with Geoff.

Thinking of his arrival here – and England – was suddenly cast in a very different light, and he frowned, but before he had time to dwell on it Michael intercepted him on the way to the bathroom.

“Hey,” the other man said, planting himself firmly in Gavin's path. “You alright?”

“I'm good,” Gavin began, and forced a smile, but Michael was having none of it.

“You seem really off,” he informed him, scowling. “What exactly happened back there?”

For a moment Gavin just wanted to burst out with it, to tell him everything – _Dan, I thought I saw Dan, I don't know what the fuck's going on._ But he was still so uncertain – and terrified by the prospect of Dan up against them on the police's side – that he couldn't bring himself to let the words out.

For the second time that day he lied to Michael's face. “Like I said. That guy just took me by surprise.” A pause, and then, something too vulnerable in it, “I thought he had me for a second.”

That part was true at least; even if he hadn't been killed on the spot – and for a moment there as the elbow pressed against his throat he really thought he might be – he had a lurking almost-fear of Special Agent Coal. The guy had been after them long enough and proven himself cruel enough that Gavin, while perhaps not directly afraid of him, was well uneasy about anything that might happen if one of them ever did get arrested.

Michael eyed him suspiciously for a moment then nodded.

“Okay,” he said, and then, something fiercely protective in it, “Well, you're alright now.”

“I know,” Gavin replied, and forced another smile, feeling a bit embarrassed suddenly. Even if the six of them were fairly protective of each other, they knew they could all take care of themselves – they wouldn't have survived so long if they couldn't – and feeling weak wasn't something that sat too easily with him.

Michael stepped forward and pulled him forward into a rough sort of kiss. Gavin could feel the anger behind it; annoyance at the failure of their heist, fear at his and Ray's injuries – but Michael's hands were still very gentle on his shoulders, and he was glad of the distraction, of letting himself be swept away if only for a moment by the hard press of Michael's lips on his and the feel of his calloused fingers brushing up under the collar of his shirt.  
  


* * *

  
In the heat of the shower Gavin finally stopped shaking, the hot water drumming a little of the tension from his back and shoulders. He washed the blood from his hair and watched it run in red rivulets down the drain.

His throat hurt and he reached up, fingers tracing the bruises across his neck. It hurt, and his lip was bleeding again, and it hit him then that _it wasn't a ghost. It couldn't have been_. His physical injuries were proof enough of that.

He closed his eyes and saw Dan's face again, swimming behind his eyelids clear as day. Older now, harder, but still definitely _him_ with his brown eyes and strong jaw even if the youthful roundness Gavin remembered of him had been worn away.

_If I had been imagining it I wouldn't have imagined him older_ , he realised with a terrible sinking feeling, and took a deep, shuddering breath.   
  


* * *

  
When he got out of the bathroom it was to find Ryan leaning against the wall waiting for him. He straightened up when Gavin opened the door, smiling a little – he'd taken his mask off, washed his face, and looked softer now, younger. More like the Ryan that Gavin always saw at home when work was the last thing on their minds, the one who swapped guns out for books and biking leather for hoodies and terrible sweaters.

“Hey,” he said, and Gavin smiled a little.

“Hey,” he replied.

“I'm heading out in a minute to help Geoff sort out some stuff,” Ryan said. He reached out and ran a hand down Gavin's arm. “So I'll see you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” Gavin replied, and leaned up to kiss him gently on the lips.

Ryan pulled back. He was looking at Gavin speculatively and Gavin frowned a little, knowing how perceptive the other man was – that he'd picked up earlier that something was wrong. And he felt terrible for doing it, but he still didn't want the others to _know_ yet, wasn't quite sure why it made him feel almost ashamed at the thought of revealing what had happened to them. So he plastered on the fake, pleasant smile that he wore out on all his business ventures for Geoff, as much of a mask as the literal one he wore between visits. He was schooled at it but Ryan still frowned a little – he came out with Gavin so often that he probably recognised the look for what it was.

But he didn't push. Just reached out and pulled an arm around Gavin's shoulders, tugging him in against his side in a half-hug.

“Don't worry, we'll sort this out. And then it's on to the big heist.” He grinned, exhilarated. “Money and limelight! It'll be the best thing we've ever done.”

_Money and limelight_ , it wasn't about that though, so much as it was about how they'd be doing it _together_ , how _they'd_ be the ones finding it hysterically funny afterwards when everyone talked about it. It wasn't the money that had him staying in this job after all. It was the others.

“It'll be top,” Gavin agreed, and leaned in to kiss him again. Ryan grabbed him and dipped him backwards dramatically, making him giggle despite himself, his arm strong around Gavin's back keeping him from falling before he set him upright again.

“See you tonight,” Ryan said again. He pulled his mask on and it was funny, how that one simple action caused such a switch, turning him immediately back into the Vagabond, the mercenary feared throughout the entire city if not the country. But Gavin still smiled at him – _he_ knew what was under that mask – and watched him head out.

His smile faded a little as he headed back into the main room to find more of the others gone. Only Jack and Ray remained, sitting on the couch together. Ray was pulled back against Jack's chest, sprawled easily against him as they both watched the TV, though Jack wasn't focused much on the screen. Gavin could see the worried glances he kept casting Ray's leg – he always fussed the most when one of them got injured, and even now he had his arms slung protectively around Ray's shoulders, occasionally leaning down to brush a gentle kiss to the top of his head, obviously not willing to let go of him any time soon.

Gavin cast them a brief smile – mask of artificial calm still in place – and moved to sit next to Ray, reaching out to gently squeeze the other's ankle before he turned his attention to the television.

The failed heist was already being covered and his stomach tightened as he stared at footage of the cordoned off street. The reporters couldn't get nearly close enough to see the scene of the crime, but a lot of them were filming where ambulances and police were coming and going, the shots playing between accounts from civilians who lived in the area and had heard the commotion.

“There he is,” Ray grunted suddenly. “The fucknut.”

'The fucknut' being Coal, who was glimpsed striding furiously past the reporters back towards the bank. Jack let out a little disgruntled noise as well and Gavin couldn't help but frown too.

Achievement City had gone to the dogs a long time ago and while the Fake AH Crew had certainly capitalised on it and were significantly responsible, the police and the FBI really hadn't helped. Most of them were crooked, had been bought out by if not the gangs themselves, then the rich and corrupt local politicians who in turn were often in league with either the Crew or any other mobs in the area.

While they'd found no evidence so far that Coal had been bought out by a gang, they were pretty sure he was on the payroll of some other higher-up and he'd displayed enough instances of cruelty, brutality and general unpleasantness for them to dislike him. When he'd managed to get a hold of Michael... Gavin still didn't like to think about it, what might have happened if Ryan hadn't been there to get him out quickly.

He was a slippery fucker too; they hadn't managed to kill him yet, and not for lack of trying.

Coal was his last priority right now though. The news skipped to another interview and then back to the police, and a cold chill ran over him as he caught sight of that familiar face again.

Dan was with a cluster of other detectives. He was sitting on the hood of one of the cars, his injured leg stretched out ahead of him. The camera's focus wasn't on him but Gavin's gaze was drawn to him anyway; he wasn't speaking with the others, head down, seeming deep in thought.

But now that he wasn't dazed from hitting his head and running on the adrenaline of a fight – now that he wasn't quite as frozen in shock, he had all the time in the world to stare at Dan and realise, with a dawning, spreading horror, that yes.

It was definitely him.

Somehow, by some means, Dan had come back from the dead. Had, it seemed, never been dead at all and Gavin-

Gavin should have been _happy_ , for God's sake, but there Dan was sitting with the FBI, there he was bleeding from a wound _Gavin_ had put in his leg after he _himself_ beat the shit out of Gavin in turn and-

And-

For a terrible, floundering moment he felt like he was drowning, caught in a maelstrom of emotions – still confused as to how this had come about, guilt at not being able to feel happy at Dan's return, a terrible panic at what this would mean for them-

And above all _shame_ , suddenly. Not fear of Dan himself but of what he must think to find Gavin still alive as well, to find him running with the most notorious crew in Achievement City.

Suddenly he was quite certain that he was going to throw up. He rose abruptly from the couch and Jack and Ray glanced up in concern.

“Alright, Gavvy?” Jack asked quietly.

The pet name almost made Gavin feel worse somehow. He nodded – managed to choke out something about needing air – and hurried from the room to burst out the back door into the small yard out the back of the safe house. It was surrounded by a high fence that he collapsed against, hunched over the weedy lawn that smelled too strongly of pollen and grass seeds. He dry heaved a couple of times but the nausea quickly settled leaving him feeling nothing but shaky, breathing too hard.

He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a gasping, hysterical sort of laugh.

_I did not see this coming. I did not bloody well see this coming._

It was a fantastic stroke of irony, wasn't it. Great! Wonderful! His childhood best friend back from the dead and on _the opposite side of the fucking law to them_.

He laughed harder but it quickly broke off into a choked sort of noise. He leaned forward, bracing his hands on his knees, and shook his head a few times. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, too-fast, too-fast.

For a moment everything seemed to loom up, threatening to overwhelm him. But he hadn't gotten to where he was now by being _weak_ , he hadn't survived this long by breaking down at the first sign of anything going wrong. Reaching up he slapped his own cheek, the sharp ring of pain breaking him out of his panic a little.

_Pull yourself together, for Christ's sake_. And then, sorting things through more rationally in his mind, _first things first._

_Find out where the hell Dan came from.  
_

* * *

* * *

  
 Dan sat on the hood of a police car, a few streets away from the robbed bank. His leg was stretched out ahead of him, the wound in his thigh throbbing steadily with pain every few seconds, a rhythmic pulse. Blood roared in his ears, nearly drowning out everything around him. There were people – cops, detectives, emergency workers – talking over each other, but he could barely focus on what was going on around him.

_Gavin_ , was all he could think. _Gavin, Gavin, Gavin-_

The shock had faded away and now he was just _confused._

_He was killed. Years ago he was killed. You saw the police report, the notice of his death. It couldn't have been him. Rationally it just does not fucking work_.

But he was sure, so _sure_ – it might have been years since he saw his friend alive but he would have recognised him anywhere. And – and he had seen Gavin recognise him too.

_But here? In America_ ? And working for the bloody Fake AH Crew too – it just didn't make _sense_.

_Rationally_ , he thought – _I need to investigate this. Work it out_.

Before he could dwell on it more someone cleared their throat beside him. He turned to find himself staring at a paramedic – ambulances had arrived some time ago to take away the injured SWAT team members and the few mercenaries as well who'd been shot but hadn't died or gotten away.

“Agent,” she began.

“Sergeant,” Dan corrected her automatically – his voice came out a hoarse croak and he cleared his throat a few times.

“Sergeant,” she repeated. “I need to get a look at your leg.”

_Oh_ , he realised – for all that the wound hurt it had quickly faded from his attention. He'd had far worse and he was pretty sure it wasn't actually that bad. But he nodded, hopping off the car and limping after her over to one of the parked ambulances.

“Don't take me to the hospital,” he said immediately. He didn't think he could deal with sitting around in such a clinical environment for hours. “Just fix it up here.”

“Are you sure? That looks pretty bad.”

“It's fine.” He could still walk and move on it and it had been a clumsy blow, more aimed to distract him than to really cause damage.

_Gav fucking stabbed me_ , he realised – and it seemed impossible again that it really could have been him. The Gavin he remembered would never have been able to stick a knife in someone even if he'd wanted to. He couldn't throw a punch to save his life and would never want to hurt someone besides.

_And he'd never join a criminal gang_ , Dan realised – that more than anything had been what confused him. _Let alone the worst one in a city like this. For God's sake, he_ hated _that sort of thing – we both did._

It came back to him, that old mantra he still remembered every day from their childhood. _Make it better_.

They were halfway through stitching up his leg in the back of the ambulance when Coal abruptly poked his head in. He was red faced and glowering, obviously miffed by their failure.

“Gruchy. There you are,” he barked. “What happened to you?”

“I ran into the frontman,” Dan replied, and saw Coal perk up a little.

“You get a look at his face?” he asked eagerly.

Dan hesitated.

It didn't take him long to decide to lie. If it hadn't been Gavin, if he had been imagining things, he still didn't know who the man was. If it _had_ been Gavin...

If it had been Gavin, then God, that was a world of trouble he didn't want to think about.

“No,” he said then. “Bloody stabbed me in the leg and ran off before I could get a good look at him.”

Coal jabbed a finger at him. “I'm telling you, they're slippery bastards. That'll scar,” he added, wincing over Dan's wound. “Stuck a damn knife in you! You'll be out for his blood now I suppose.”

“Yeah,” was all Dan said, rather wishing he'd go away and leave him to think.

“Still. They didn't get a cent, so we've stopped one plan of theirs at least,” Coal pointed out, in a moment of rare and uncharacteristic optimism. “We lost them in the roads but my men are still out there looking for him.”

His fervour jolted Dan back into the present, into remembering their mission. The entire reason he was here, to bring down the Fake AH Crew. And how determined he had been to do so.

There was no way, he thought again – there was just no way Gavin could be the elusive frontman of Geoff Ramsey's crew. For his old friend to stoop to a life of organised crime was unthinkable; it went against every one of their principles, from childhood to growing up to Dan leaving on tour. He had to have been mistaken.

But he still had to look into it.  
  


* * *

  
It was only late afternoon by the time Dan arrived back at his apartment, but it felt later than that somehow, the flat seeming darker, lonelier, emptier. He found himself jumping at shadows, as though somehow expecting Gavin's ghost to pop out at him at any moment.

_Stupid, stupid_.

He probably could have gone back in to work but his injury gave him a good excuse to take the day off to rest. Alone here at home now he couldn't get his mind off it. He had never forgotten Gavin, of course not, but it had been so long since he properly dwelled on him, let alone looked at a picture of him.

_They never properly identified the body_ , he thought – it was something he used to obsess over, clinging to some faint desperate hope that Gavin might still be alive somehow, that it was all just some mistake. But he'd given those hopes up long ago.

Maybe he shouldn't have.

He poured himself a drink – God knew he needed one after today – and sat down on the bed with his laptop, frowning as he opened the pictures of the masked frontman that Coal had sent over to him.

Even now it was hard to imagine the man – sharply dressed in some pictures, always with a gun at his belt and often with the masked Vagabond following him about like the grim reaper – as his Gavin. Though the guy was still fairly wiry, looking small next to Vagabond, it was hard for him to picture Gavin as anything other than the scrawny, gawkish young lad he'd been when they last saw each other.

_Then again it's been, what – five years? Six?_

He frowned and closed the pictures, moving to look instead at the file of a case he hadn't looked at in a while.

God, it hurt to think about.

He'd joined the army. Gavin had gone off to college. He'd always been the clever one, of the two of them, the more ambitious. But like Dan he'd held true to what they'd clung to all through their childhoods of careless parents and petty gang crime in their area and lower end schools full of peers involved in bad things in bad parts of town. _Make it better_. He'd been doing criminology – God, Dan still remembered it clear as day – media too, with the end of becoming some sort of investigative journalist, or something similar.

That was how it had always been, the two of them. Dan the strong one, Gavin the one who was good at plans and people. Both of them with perhaps naïve ambitions of becoming some sort of heroes. Making a change.

They'd had nothing but each other.

Except then Afghanistan happened, and Dan didn't like to think about that, but he'd come home and-

And Gavin was gone.

It had been so damn sudden that he hadn't known what to think. It didn't help that, at the time, the information he got was very vague, just that Gavin had somehow gotten mixed up in some sort of gang activity. That he'd been killed by one of the little bundles of organised crime in their area – the same ones that had pushed Dan and Gavin to wanting out, to wanting better in the first place – that they'd found a body, burned beyond recognition and dumped in a gutter, and having assumed it had to be him, they'd closed the case.

He hadn't been allowed to know more than that, not for a very, very long time, and for a while he hadn't _wanted_ to because-

_Gavin_ , it was Gavin, Gavin who was closer than a brother to him, who he'd known since they were scabby-kneed primary school kids, Gavin who he'd looked up to his whole life, through high school when all the rest of their friends got into weed and then much worse – Gavin who was the only person really there for him when a schoolmate was killed in a mugging, when his grandfather died, when his parents didn't care to support him after he graduated.

To come home after everything that had happened and find he'd been _murdered_ had been indescribably painful. Had felt like losing _everything_ , all at once – he'd been angry, so angry, and then empty for a very long time.

But he'd pulled himself out of it – and then, having left the army and based on their childhood ambitions of heroism, joined the force and worked his way up to detective sergeant. And eventually – to his great satisfaction – came to specialise in certain organised crime activities both in the city they'd grown up in and later on in London.

_What doesn't kill you makes you stronger_ , he'd always heard, but that was bullshit and he knew it. What didn't kill you left scars, and maybe he'd buried it all for a while, but the prospect of Gavin returning had dredged it all up again.

_They never properly identified the body_ , he thought again, and took a sip of his drink, the liquor a cathartic burn down his throat and in the pit of his belly.

Why should he think to see Gavin here? Why now?

He took a deep breath and looked again at the case file around Gavin's supposed death. He'd never really looked at it in depth, even after he got the clearance to be able to. Better to leave old wounds untouched. But now he read it closely again, drinking in every detail.

He was tired after the long day and several times lost focus and had to go back over it, reading and rereading to make sure he hadn't missed anything.

He'd never been able to understand how Gavin had ended up tangled up in this stuff – the file itself was vague, the police not seeming to have known much other than that he'd been 'associating' with several of their known marks, whatever the fuck that meant.

But a name jumped out at him suddenly, and he honed in on it. _Michael Burns._

It was familiar – too familiar, and he frowned, frantically trawling through the rest of the files to try and work out where he'd heard it before.

There – in the master list Coal had given him of everything they'd gotten on the Fake AH Crew – everyone they remotely suspected could be a contact of theirs.

Michael Burns had never been directly linked with the crew, but rather associated with people who they'd been known to work with, or who were suspected of being in league with them. Dan's eyes scanned over Coal's notes on what he suspected the man's job was, and his blood ran cold.

_Pseudocide and forging new identities_. Jesus Christ – and his name had popped up in Gavin's case; Gavin had apparently been in contact with him several times in the weeks before he died, this man who made people disappear.

Holy hell. Had this Burns helped Gavin fake his death? And then, what – shipped him over here to work for the Fake AH Crew?

_It can't be possible. Why would Gav agree to that? Why would he..._

Dan was breathing too hard, too fast. He slammed his laptop shut and sat back on the bed, reaching for his glass with a shaking hand and downing the rest of the drink.

Okay. Okay. It was looking more and more likely that he hadn't been hallucinating, that he really had seen Gavin. That he was _alive_. The thought sent a sudden thrill through him; he'd never truly dared hope it was possible.

But it was undercut with a bitterness, the pain in his leg making itself apparent again as he remembered just how and why he'd encountered his old friend again.

_If he is the frontman... I need to learn more about what he is. How he fits into the rest of the crew. Maybe... maybe he's been forced to be there, maybe they're making him work for them. Maybe he's in trouble and I-_

_And I can save him_.

The thought flared bright in his mind. Surely, surely this must be it – somehow they had something over Gavin, were controlling him somehow or, or threatening him. Had held him prisoner all this while. That _had_ to be it. It explained everything.

It didn't matter. Dan was here now, he could help him-

(And the darker possibility lurked at the back of his mind that that wasn't the case at all, but he couldn't believe it, _wouldn't_ believe it-)

He clung to that explanation, pouring himself another drink as he mulled it over. _I'll get him back. I_ can _get him back_.

He knocked back the drink and paused. Suddenly the rest of the Fake AH Crew took up a new wickedness in his mind, looming not only as the notorious criminals that they were but as the people who, it seemed, had taken Gavin from him, who were – were holding him prisoner or _something_ , forcing him to do their bidding. It filled him with an even fiercer resolve, a determination to bring them down, to take back Gavin and then... then everything would fall into place. He'd have his best friend again and would have made the city a better place besides.

For the first time he let himself start to grin, buzzing in the happy idea that Gavin was _alive_. That they would see each other again. God, he'd never even dared to dream about it.

_Hang in there B, I'm coming_.  
  


* * *

* * *

  
“Gavin?” Barbara asked, staring at him in confusion from the doorway of her little downtown apartment. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Barbara.” He slipped into a mask of faux-casualness with ease, as if this was just another business transaction conducted for Geoff. “Can I come in?”

“You're making house calls now?” she demanded suspiciously, and then peered about into the foyer behind him. “Where's your shadow then?”

“Ryan's not here,” Gavin half-laughed. “This isn't that sort of visit.”

“You could have called ahead,” she muttered, but grabbed his arm and tugged him inside, shutting the door behind him.

Gavin had been in here several times before; he and Barbara were friends, about as close as one could be with a co-worker in this sort of business. They'd met through Burnie, had worked together a couple of times, and he trusted her – enough to come here now.

“I need a favour,” he said, right off the bat.

Barbara raised her eyebrows as she crossed the little flat to her office space – a large desk in the main room, littered with computer equipment.

“I thought this wasn't that sort of visit,” she replied, dropping into her chair and spinning idly. “I don't know what Geoff wants, Gav, but you have to come to my proper office if you've got a job for me. Not my apartment. Hasn't anyone ever told you not to shit where you eat?” She paused then, a grin tugging at her lips. “Well, I guess you stopped caring about that since you started banging the entirety of your crew. Guess it's _fuck_ where you eat in your case.”

“Barb.” He'd calmed down well enough on the way over here but he wasn't in the mood for jokes. “This isn't for Geoff. It's a personal thing, I... I really need your help. _Please_.”

Her smile faded, face softening as her eyes scanned him and she seemed to pick up on his agitation.

“Okay,” she said finally, quietly. “What's going on?”

“I need you to look into someone for me,” Gavin said. “A man from back in England – Daniel Gruchy.”

“Who is he?”

“Someone I used to know,” he replied. She raised her eyebrows at the vagueness but didn't push further.

“What do you need on him?” she asked instead, already starting up the computer.

“Everything – what he's been up to the last few years. Where he is now.” He bit his lip. “He was in the army about five, six years back? I need to know what happened there.”

“Military shit in a foreign country? I'm good, Gavin, but I can't promise I'm that good.” She glanced over her shoulder at him and whatever she saw in his face made her smile again, reassuringly. “But I'll try.”

“Thanks, Barb. Really.”

“Don't mention it. Take a seat,” she added, and Gavin moved to settle down on the couch behind her.

It was unsettling to have little to do but wait, nervous at what she might find. Unsure what he _wanted_ her to find. And she would come up with something, he knew – Barbara specialised in pulling info on people – data, blackmail, hacking where she needed to – and she was damn good at it too.

He pulled out his phone after a while and idly spent the time checking his messages. Geoff kept texting him – _where are you, asshole? I told you to wait at the safe house_.

He'd let Jack and Ray know where he was going but it seemed that hadn't been enough information for Geoff. _With Barb_ , he replied quickly, _just sorting some things out._

_'Yeah, well stay safe, the cops are still trawling out there. Let me know if you need me to pick you up_. '

There was more after that, arrangements to be made and notes on things he needed Gavin to help him sort out later. A heist going wrong always left them with a bunch of clean up and dealing with any of their contacts was Gavin's responsibility.

He bit his lip, feeling suddenly like he was betraying Geoff by not immediately telling him – telling _all_ the others – what was going on here. Information usually flowed completely freely between them, Geoff often placing complete trust in his hands – as well as banking on him to know _how_ to handle the people and situations that arose in a way that was best for the crew.

_That's what I'm doing here_ , he told himself – _gathering more information._

“Daniel Gruchy,” Barbara announced some time later, breaking the silence that had fallen in the flat aside from the quiet music she'd been playing as she worked. “Detective Sergeant with the Thames Valley Police Force, although he was reassigned to the Met about a year ago.”

She glanced up at Gavin as he hurried to her side, looking at the documents she'd pulled up. There it was, clear as day, Dan's police profile, his face staring out at Gavin from the ID photo like some horrible ghost.

“But he was dead,” he blurted out, the first thing on his mind. “He was sent off to bloody Afghanistan and – and they told me he was dead.”

“Yep, I found that – missing, presumed dead. Key word there being _presumed_ ,” Barbara replied, thankfully not commenting on the distress rising steadily in his voice. “A year after that he and a couple of others came back. Really hush hush, no big media attention – it looks like whatever happened to them over there crossed over with something classified. I can't get in deeper than that, sorry.”

Gavin squeezed his eyes shut, trying to wrap his head around it. _A year_. He'd been gone from England by then and refused to ever look back. Dan's supposed death had been a breaking point for him in a lot of ways.

“He wasn't dead,” he croaked out. “He wasn't dead and he came back and he joined the force.”

“That's about right.” He could hear the quiet confusion in Barbara's voice, and spoke quickly before she could start asking him questions.

“So why the hell is he _here_ , then?”

“Some time ago he was involved with a case in London,” Barbara began, and Gavin's eyes shot open in horror.

“Not _Ben_?”

“Looks like it, sorry.”

“But we looked into that – we didn't hear anything about, about Dan being involved-”

“He was transferred over from Oxford to help. Anything you looked up would've had his inspector's name on it, not his.”

“Fuck,” Gavin breathed.

“Anyway, it's connected with you lot so I'm guessing that's why he's been sent here now. To help Coal.”

Gavin nodded and looked away, closing his eyes again. He felt that odd heavy sickness come over him once more, a churning nausea in the pit of his stomach.

_Dan's not dead. He never was dead. All this time he's been alive and I never bloody knew-_

It had hurt so much, losing him. It had hurt to the point that Gavin had stopped himself from ever looking further into it – had put Dan entirely from his mind-

And had let himself fall further into the world of less than legal shit that he'd started getting mixed up in ever since Dan got deployed, that small part of him that hoped his friend returning would help him sort himself out dying as soon as he heard that Dan had.

He'd gotten in over his head, gotten into some serious trouble, but Burnie had gotten him out – helped him fake his death and start over in America. And that's what he'd done, _started over_ and found the others and never once thought that Dan could come back to haunt him like this.

_When he came back he must have thought I was dead as well._

“Oh God,” he wheezed out, reaching his hands up to cover his face, pressing against the bruises hard enough to hurt.

Bruises that Dan had definitely put there while _trying to bloody arrest him_ and oh God, oh God, what must he think of Gavin now, he must have worked out by now who he was here, who he worked for-

“Gavin.” Barbara grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands down gently. “Jesus Christ. Do you need to sit down?”

“No, I need...” He wasn't sure _what_ he needed to do. He had no fucking idea what his next move should be.

“Gavin.” She sounded seriously concerned now. “What happened to your face, anyway?”

“The usual,” he snapped, curtly.

For a moment a terrible upset nearly overwhelmed him because it had been a long, _long_ time since he let himself even think about Dan, let alone _miss him._ And while this whole situation was fucked up, the fact remained that he was alive, Dan was _alive,_ but he-

Gavin closed himself off to it, straightened up and let his face harden into something cold and aloof again, a defensive mechanism more than anything else, trying to treat this like just another job, another obstacle he'd deal with so Geoff didn't have to.

Taking a deep breath, he turned towards her. “You _can't_ tell Geoff about this.”

“What?”

“Do not tell Geoff I came here. That I was looking into this guy. Or any of the others. This stays between you and me for now.”

“Gavin, what the fuck is going on?” she demanded, starting to look seriously alarmed now. “Who is this guy to you? Are you in some sort of trouble? You said this was just a personal favour-”

“It is,” he said, and took her by the shoulders, staring at her intently. “I mean it, Barbara. Just... please keep this to yourself for now. Okay?”

She stared back at him, eyes wide and confused. A bit scared now, because she wasn't fool enough not to realise that something was definitely going on here, something bad judging by his reaction.

But after a moment she nodded.

“Okay,” she said, then swallowed and nodded again. “Okay. I trust you'll deal with it... whatever _it_ is.”

“Thanks, Barb.” He let go of her and sighed, rubbing his hands over his face again before turning to grab his jacket from the couch. “I should go now.”

“Gav.” She followed him to the door then reached out and grabbed the end of his sleeve. He turned towards her and found her staring at him in concern.

“Are you alright?” she asked softly.

He froze. He could lie to the others but there was little reason to here with Barb, and for a second he let the mask fall away, let himself crumble momentarily before her. He shook his head, an awful pressure rising up in his chest and throat.

“No,” he whispered. He wasn't alright and this wasn't _fair_ , to lose Dan and have him returned like this, pitted against each other, forcing him to face up to what he tried not to think about – the fact that he wasn't a good person, that he'd betrayed every one of their youthful ideals.

Barbara looked stricken but he pulled away from her, walking out of the apartment and the building. Pausing just outside where he'd parked his car.

It was true then. It wasn't all some horrible misunderstanding.

Dan was back. Dan was back and here he was now, checking them out with the rest of the police, working with Coal to bring them down.

Gavin felt sick.

_What the fuck am I going to do?_

 


	3. Chapter 3

Dan dreamed of Gavin that night.

It was a peculiar sort of dream, all mixed in with real memories he had. The two of them at Gavin's college, sitting in his little dorm room, popping open a bottle of cheap shitty champagne in celebration of Gavin passing his first semester with flying colours.

“Cheers B,” Dan remembered himself saying, knocking fake-plastic-glasses with him. “Guess your brain is as big as your nose after all.”

“Oh shut up,” Gavin had laughed back, and raised his own cup in something like a toast. “To making it better, right B?”

“Right,” Dan replied, sobering momentarily before they both sipped.

Gavin spluttered immediately, spitting half of his mouthful out onto the bed they were sitting on. “Jesus bleedin' Christ, that stuff is rank – where'd you get this?”

“I don't know,” Dan replied, pulling a face; the champagne really was bad.

“How do you not know where you got it from?”

“It was in the common area. Someone else bought it – did someone drink half of this and then dilute it with water?” He took another tentative sip and then gave up, gagging a bit. The two of them looked at each other for a moment before breaking down laughing.

“We are ridiculous,” Gavin had said, and Dan had to agree; but there they were slowly making something of themselves, working their way along together, and the dream melted into vague mixed-up memories of him walking Gavin to his classes on his days off in the brisk crisp cold of England's winter, of falling asleep in Gavin's room and half-waking in the night to the other's warm weight curled against his back, squashed in against him in the small dorm bed, the same way they used to as children sleeping over at his grandfather's house on the spare mattress.

Fond memories, ones he hadn't thought of in too long. They merged together as dreams do before fading away into something darker, more terrifying.

He stood before a burning body in a gutter, the smell of burnt flesh acrid in the air before him. It was something he was too used to; bodies baking in the hot sun, and made him feel ill. The fire was flickering, blocking his way, smoke rising up before him.

Beyond that stood the frontman, standing opposite and staring at him. He couldn't see the man's face; it was covered in a simple white mask.

“Gav?” he called out.

The man didn't reply, and Dan looked at the burning body again and thought of the case file and wondered if maybe he'd been wrong all along, if Gavin really had died all those years ago. He looked from the corpse to the frontman and back again and thought them both as terrible as each other.

The frontman turned then and began to walk away, into some dark city that Dan was not familiar with, and he was seized with a sudden panic-

“Gav, wait,” he shouted, but the man did not turn, and the gutter was blocking his way so that he would have to jump through the fire to get to him.

He paused, then braced himself, and ran to do it, but as he leapt a sudden burst of pain exploded in his injured leg and he woke from his dream with a jolt. He sat bolt upright in a cold sweat, his heart slamming so hard that for a moment he panicked, quite certain he was in some sort of danger. The room was very dark, the sounds of traffic outside the window unfamiliar, and he couldn't remember where he was.

Then it came back to him, slowly. He groaned, rolling over to look at the clock – just past four am – and let his head fall back against the pillow with a thud, sucking in deep breaths. His leg was still throbbing with pain, a dull burning ache, and he winced as he stretched it out, the stitches pulling a little.

It had been a long time since he had nightmares, since he dreamed about Gavin at all. Lying here in the dark, his friend on his mind, knowing that somewhere out there Gavin was _alive –_ it felt so unreal. He wondered what Gavin was doing, if he was asleep right now too.

If he was thinking of Dan in turn. He had recognised him too, after all.

With a sigh, he let his eyes slip shut again, waiting for his racing heart to slow, for morning to come.  


* * *

  
Dan arrived at work the next day to find Coal already there. The other man was in a terrible mood. He looked like he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep last night and was in the process of ripping Mike a new asshole when Dan got in, he wasn't sure why.

When he finally finished Mike slunk out of the room, pulling a face at Dan behind Coal's back, which was not entirely professional but made Dan snort a little anyway.

Coal turned to him then and sighed, running a hand over his bald head.

“Gruchy. There you are. How's the leg?”

“Feeling better, thanks.” He was still limping a little though as he entered the other's office and sat down. “Any developments last night?”

Coal shook his head. “We scoured the streets. Not a sign of them. Looks like they've gone back into hiding again.”

“And the mercenaries, the ones who didn't get away?”

“One died in hospital last night. The other's still in critical condition; they don't know if she'll pull through.” Coal's lips pressed together tightly. “So they're not a lead for now. We're back to our usual, I suppose. Tracking them, waiting for them to slip up.”

“I had some questions for you, actually,” Dan said.

“Shoot.”

It hadn't taken Dan much thought to realise that telling Coal, or anyone at all, about his association with Gavin was a terrible idea. He needed to figure this out, to help Gavin on his own, and giving any indication that he knew one of the Fake AH Crew personally would have him immediately taken off the case. Until he had more information, he had to keep his quest to find out more, to help Gavin, to himself.

Still, it didn't come easily to him, after a lifetime of following orders, of adhering to what he'd always considered to be the 'right' thing. But he kept his face straight as he asked Coal, “What do you know about the relationship between Ramsey's main six?”

“They're close,” Coal replied.

“But beyond that?” Dan prompted. “Who are they to each other? Just friends? Coworkers? Is it possible that any one of them might be a weak spot, someone we could, I don't know. Target and try to turn on Ramsey?”

Coal gave a great snort. “Trust me, I've thought of that. It would never work. They're all really tight. That's what makes them so dangerous. They won't turn on each other – won't sell each other out.” He paused, thoughtfully. “We think Ramsey and Jack might be in a relationship. Not sure though.”

Dan was hardly interested in that. “What about the frontman? You said you know nothing about him?”

“Sure, but we've seen him around,” Coal replied darkly. “He's not a weak spot. He's Ramsey's mouthpiece. Privy to all his closest plans. And when he goes out with Vagabond? _He's_ the one who's in charge. Vagabond just follows him around. Like a wolf he's somehow got on a leash.”

Dan pressed his lips together, feeling uneasy. He remembered how people around Gavin's old college used to joke about Dan following him around like a puppy, how it had been funny given that he was so much bigger and stronger yet still looked up to Gavin, almost seeking his approval.

He hadn't been able to help it. Gavin was charismatic and clever and Dan had just... _loved_ him, so much, and it had hurt so much to lose him that even now, with what Coal was saying to him, he clung to the hope that this was all some mistake. That Gavin was being forced to work for the crew and if Dan could only get him away from them then he'd be fine.

“I see,” he said, and excused himself, heading back to his own office. He sat staring out through the glass wall at the other agents working busily away.

The FBI didn't know enough to be any sort of useful to him. He'd have to conduct his own investigation, it seemed. With a slight frown he turned on his computer and paused at the database of Achievement City case files. So far all he'd really been given were the police's own files related to the Fake AH Crew.

_Who else in this city might know something about them?_

It took him a moment to think about it, then an idea struck, and he began to look into other gangs in the area; there was some information on a couple who'd worked with the crew before, but had since stopped.

It seemed like it might be time for him to pay a few people visits.  
  


* * *

  
The pub was a nasty little place, a dingy sort of hole-in-the-wall where the lower calibre crooks of Achievement City kept their meetings. It reminded him a lot of the places in the town where he'd grown up, places he'd tried to steer clear of where the minor-league gangs in his city would rub shoulders with other, worse criminals looking for audience, where adolescents who pretended to be a lot tougher than they were first got in over their heads.

It hadn't taken him long to track down the place, which spoke volumes about its lack of subtlety. It had taken even less time for him to set up a meeting with the two leaders of a small gang of smugglers who'd had fleeting business with the Fake AH Crew a few years back; Huang and Carver.

They sat opposite him now over drinks he'd bought for them, a grim looking pair. Carver a bulky, pasty looking man who Dan wasn't quite sure if he was trying (and failing) to pull off dreadlocks or just hadn't washed his hair in a very long time. Huang leering at him with her bad teeth but with scarred knuckles that proved she was likely a lot tougher than her wiry, hunched little frame would have her seem.

“What do you want to go poking around the Fake AH Crew for?” Carver demanded. “If Geoff Ramsey wants to talk to someone he seeks them out himself.”

Dan raised his eyebrows. Going undercover wasn't his thing – at _all_ – but he thought he was pulling it off quite well, having arranged this meeting under the guise of being a foreign mercenary, ex-military, looking for work in this city. The fact that he had no apparent ties with the known FBI here helped, and he had proof of past military experience that led credence to his story. Enough to fool these two, in any case.

“I heard he might be hiring. That there's some big job coming up and that's why they've been pulling so many heists these last few months. But I've only just arrived here, I know fuck all about these guys – thought it might be a good idea to talk to some people who'd worked with them before, yeah?”

Huang snorted. “You don't want to work with the Fake AH Crew. They're assholes, all of them. Cut us loose without a second thought. Apparently we _weren't pulling our weight_. Fuckwads.”

Dan could see exactly why these two might have been cut loose, if they were stupid enough to run their mouths to a stranger. From what he'd heard they'd only held a minor position among the crew's contacts anyway, but they didn't seem to be the sort Ramsey would want to keep around when he had better options.

“He's got the Vagabond working for him though, doesn't he?” he prompted, to get conversation flowing.

“Oh yeah,” Huang said. “Fucking piece of work that guy.” She shivered. “I only saw him once and that was more than enough for me. He's got Brownman too. And they're all, like, fucking each other, all six of them? Can you imagine that? Getting into bed with that creepy-ass mask-”

“Wait, _what_?!” Dan did a double take as he registered just what she'd said.

Huang and Carver exchanged a glance.

“Yeah,” Carver repeated, and then grinned, seeming eager to share this piece of gossip. “They all are, that main six? They're in some weird sort of... what's the word? Polygon relationship or whatever.”

“Polygamous,” Huang corrected him, with a roll of her eyes. “Or whatever.”

“Where the fuck did you hear this?” Dan demanded. He still wasn't quite taking it in, the information coming up in front of him but not quite registering.

“It's not exactly a secret,” Huang replied. “I mean, they don't _advertise_ it. But anyone who's worked with them works it out pretty quickly. Boys be banging.”

“Every one of them?”

“Yeah.”

“Even his frontman – what's his name?”

“The British kid?” Carver asked, and gave a nasty sort of laugh. “Don't know his name, but yeah, him too.”

“So Ramsey makes everyone he works with fuck him as well,” Dan repeated slowly, and Huang shook her head vigorously.

“Oh no, no, that's not it at all! He doesn't _make_ them do anything.” Another grin that bared her awful teeth. She seemed to be delighting in being able to tell these scandalous details to a newcomer. “They're all in _love_ or something. It's like some weird Bonnie and Clyde shit, I don't know. Like I said, they've got a weird six-way thing going on. Jones, Vagabond, Brownman, all of them.” She shrugged. “Maybe they get off on the danger or the crime or some shit, I don't know how it works. But they're definitely all in there willingly. Jesus, they're a _nightmare_ , the six of them. Up each other's assholes all the time. Not willing to let anyone else into their _exclusive_ little band.”

She was obviously still sour about getting let go, but Dan couldn't care less about that right now.

 _What the fuck. What the actual fuck_. Coal hadn't said a God damn word about _this_. Obviously this little tidbit of information hadn't reached the FBI yet. Was it true? Surely it couldn't be true. A terrible churning started up in his stomach.

_Gavin wouldn't..._

“I don't believe this,” he said aloud.

Carver raised an eyebrow, mistaking his shock for disgust.

“Not into that, huh?” he asked, and made a rather obscene gesture with his fingers that Dan ignored.

“The frontman too?” he asked again.

“What's your obsession with him?” Huang demanded. “Yes, he's fucking all of them, or they're fucking him, or maybe they take turns, I don't fucking know. But with a pretty face like his you'd expect it, wouldn't you,” she added with a nasty sneer, and Dan's hackles started to rise automatically at the slight towards Gavin before it hit him just what she was saying.

_No, he would never-_

“He's the only one I ever properly talked to, y'know,” Huang continued thoughtfully. “He's the one most people talk to, actually – any new hires or anything, he's the one Ramsey sends out as the welcome party. Means he has a lot of contact with the little people, and let me tell you, the things I've heard – you so much as _look_ at him the wrong way and the others will _fuck you up_. They're possessive as fuck about him.”

“Jack might be Ramsey's second command,” Carver added. “But English is right up there too. You want to get in touch with Ramsey, you'll be doing most of your dealing through him. Loyal to a fault to him. You waste Ramsey's time and he'll waste _you_.”

“A lot of people want to work with Ramsey,” Huang said, seeming to mistake Dan's horrified silence at these statements as him thinking about his own potential career with the crew. “You gotta be something special to get in with those main six though. Probably willing to suck dick too. Hell, frontman came over here from England just like you did. From what I've heard he was besotted with Ramsey. Begged as many jobs with him as possible until he finally took him on full time.”

“Probably put out too,” Carver added, and they both gave ugly laughs.

Dan felt sick.

 _No_ , was all he could think. _No, no, no._

Everything he had hoped was crumbling before him. And some part of him still desperately wanted to hope that it was all a mistake, that somehow, somehow Gavin had just gotten in over his head and he could rescue him-

But he was pretty sure these two weren't lying to him. They seemed too thickheaded for that, and had little reason to anyway, and they were telling him about all this with such certainty that he knew, deep down, that it was true.

 _Oh God_.

He felt numb suddenly, cold and numb all over.

“Anyway,” Carver said. “They're a bad lot. Stay away from them if you want my opinion. You can get just as much money at this point working for another gang.”

“I'll see,” Dan replied. His voice came out tight and curt. “Do you know anything else about them?”

“Just stories,” Huang scoffed. “They're careful and we weren't all that close to them. But if you've still got a mind to work with them, contact them with a job offer and the frontman will probably get around to paying you a visit. There's more than enough people around here who can pass a message to them for you. I can give you some names if you want.” She tilted her head. “For a price of course.”

Still feeling oddly numb, Dan payed off her bribe and got the names. He left the pub as though in a daze and stood out in the dark dank street, his head spinning.

For a moment he still struggled to comprehend it.

_A weird six-way thing-_

_They're all in love or something-_

_He's fucking all of them too-_

_Loyal to a fault-_

_He was besotted with Ramsey-_

It was exactly what he'd feared, what he'd so desperately been trying not to consider as a possibility. But now, it seemed, he had to face up to it.

Gavin wanted to be here.

Gavin had... Gavin had faked his own fucking death and come here of his own free fucking will and now he was running with the worst gang in the whole city, robbing banks and trading weapons and drugs and smuggled goods and, and _killing people_ and apparently _really fucking enjoying it too_.

Not just running with the gang.

 _Fucking_ them too, Jesus fucking Christ he was _in a fucking relationship_ not just with Geoff Ramsey but with Jack, with trigger-happy Michael Jones and implacable Brownman and God damn _Vagabond_ , one of the most wanted men in the entire country.

A hot anger rose up in Dan's chest, followed by a wave of disgust so intense that it nearly made him quiver; his blood felt like it was boiling, bubbling up under his skin.

Gavin was alive. But right now he wished, he wished, he _wished he was still bloody dead_. The feeling of betrayal was like a stab in the gut, the rage seeming to set him on fire, and for a moment it overwhelmed him; he turned and kicked and beat at the nearest wall-

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , Gav,” he spat. Split his knuckles against the brick and felt blood run over his hand the way it had when he had hit Gavin, the other day, and his leg hurt too now from the sudden burst of activity, the knife where _treacherous, faithless fucking Gavin_ had _stabbed_ him.

 _You're fucking them_. He couldn't get his head around it, it made him feel so sick to think about it. _You're fucking all five of them, you... you..._

Beneath all of his rage there was a terrible upset that he held at bay if only to stop himself from falling apart. To think that Gavin should do this to _him_ , should betray all their principles, get involved in the sort of crime that they had always loathed – that they had actively worked _against –_ that Dan had committed his life now to trying to destroy–

This was a filthy, filthy city and Gavin was part of the problem, what Dan had come here to _bring down_ and suddenly it rose up before him. What the fuck was he meant to do now?!

He hit the wall one last time. The burst of energy and the pain of his fist against the hard surface was cathartic, rent a little of his anger away.

There had to be an explanation.

Because he was still confused, beneath all of this, about why the hell Gavin would do such a thing – they hadn't seen each other in so long and so much had changed. There had to be a reason.

He had to know _why_.

 _I think it's time_ , he thought, seething, as he turned and licked the blood from his knuckles and began to head back towards his rented car, _that Gavin and I had a little talk_.

 

* * *

* * *

 

“You look like shit, boi!” Michael exclaimed. “Did you get any sleep at all last night?”

Gavin shook his head tiredly as he pulled his coat off, then his jumper, tossing them both carelessly over the back of a chair before he sank down on the couch next to Michael. It was cold outside as winter set in but very warm in the heated apartment, and the temperature difference was making him feel ill.

At least he assumed it was the temperature difference. He'd felt kind of sick all day and, as Michael said, it was probably due to the fact that he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep the night before.

Or that he still had no idea what to do about Dan and it was stressing him the fuck out.

He'd been on his feet since dawn, though, and out of the apartment, with too much to do after yesterday's fuck-up heist as well as running down people who owed the crew money in an attempt to make up their losses. The others had been busy too, of course, and so he'd avoided seeing them all day, and the work had taken his mind off it a little.

But here, at home as he finally got off his feet, he felt it all come rushing back in.

 _Damn it_. He still had no plan, no idea what he should be doing.

“Is Ryan in yet?” he asked, in a fit of laziness attempting to get his boots off without leaning forward to untie the laces.

Michael shook his head. “He texted. Said he'd be back soon, Geoff's with him. Jack's in the shower, Ray's... somewhere.”

Gavin nodded, distracted by trying to scrape his boot off with his opposite foot. After a moment Michael sighed, taking pity on him, and yanked Gavin's foot into his lap to help him. When he was done he tugged Gavin around and guided him to sit with his back to him, then put warm hands on his shoulders and started to knead. Gavin closed his eyes, letting out a low hum of appreciation. Michael gave bloody good massages and the contact made him feel a little more settled.

“Jesus, Gavin, you're tense as anything.” Michael's fingers dug into the space between his shoulders and neck, working out a knot there. “Usually you're like a wet noodle.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“But a very cute wet noodle.” His hands drummed down Gavin's back before returning to his shoulders, gently squeezing at the muscle there; Gavin felt a little of his stiffness relax as he leaned closer into Michael's touch. “You work too hard.”

“You lot are always saying I'm lazy.”

“Yeah, but that's with, like, other things.” His thumb slipped under the collar of Gavin's shirt, rubbing over the knob of his spine before he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to the back of Gavin's neck. Gavin shivered, too-aware of the other's presence behind him suddenly.

“Maybe we should get you an intern or something,” Michael muttered, more to himself than anything, and Gavin barked out a startled laugh.

“An _intern_ ,” he exclaimed, and Michael huffed.

“You know what I mean.”

“Thanks, Michael, but I think I can do without some newbie following me about all day.”

Michael patted his shoulder one last time before leaning back against the couch. Gavin turned, settling back against him.

“Yeah, well, don't blame me when you collapse of exhaustion one day.”

“You all work just as hard. I'm fine.” The last came out a bit too testily, some part of himself still paranoid that they'd pick up that he was behaving oddly and make him tell them what was wrong. And God, he _wanted to_ , wanted their help or some sort of guidance as to what the _fuck_ he should do about Dan and all, but he still held back. He wasn't sure why. Perhaps fear that they'd see Dan as a problem, that they’d want to 'take care of it', in the way they always took care of things-

And still some small shame because while he'd told them about his friendship with Dan before, there were parts he'd left out. About growing up and just how much they'd meant to each other and their shared ambitions of, of becoming a hero, of saving the damn world or at least changing it. It had been stupid, childish and stupid, but the fact remained that he hadn't just let those dreams die, he'd actively opposed them. Here he was now as one of the bloody _villains_.

Geoff would probably find it amusing. Ryan and Jack would probably find it very sad, and Gavin didn't think he could stand their pity.

Either way some part of him – a small, proud part that held onto all the memories of times he'd dealt with crap by himself simply because he _had_ no one to help him – insisted that he'd deal with it just fine on his own.

So for now he held his tongue, even as the others drifted into the flat after him and Michael got up to make food and he himself eventually went off to shower and get dressed and at least attempt to unwind a little.

Ray was sitting in one of the shared bedrooms when he got in there, disassembling and cleaning his guns. He looked up when Gavin entered and climbed up off the bed, limping over to him before reeling him in for a kiss.

“Hey. Haven't seen you all day,” he said, when they pulled apart.

Gavin forced a tired smile. “Kind of busy. How's the leg?”

“I'll be fine. How's the face?” he fired back, and Gavin grimaced a bit.

“Is it bad to look at?” He'd been wearing a mask most of the day and drifted to the mirror now. The bruises were darker today, more noticeable, and he pulled a face. His lip was still fat and swollen where it'd split and there were dark, prominent bags under his eyes. It wasn't exactly pretty.

“You're always bad to look at,” was Ray's automatic reply, and Gavin turned to him with a mock-devastated expression.

“Ray! That's so mean, Ray.”

“Come on, I didn't mean it,” Ray replied, flopping back onto the bed and starting to pick up the pieces of his gun. “I wouldn't be fucking you otherwise.”

“That's remarkably shallow of you,” Gavin grumbled, pulling his shirt off and casting about for another one. He was halfway through pulling it on when he felt arms wrap around his waist and a pair of lips press just behind his ear.

“I really am joking, though,” Ray murmured, catching Gavin's wrist from behind and stopping him pulling the shirt on properly. His other hand settled on Gavin's waist, fingers gently tracing the sharp line of his hip. “Still banged you when you grew that fuck-awful moustache for that cover once didn't I?”

“Excuse you, I looked very debonair with that moustache,” Gavin replied.

“You looked – and these are your own words – like you'd stepped out of a trailer park in the deep south, or maybe the trenches of World War One.” Ray laughed, close enough that Gavin could feel his breath against his neck. “Anyway. I'd love you even if you had a gross handlebar moustache-”

“Pretty sure that's offensive to Geoff-”

“Or fucking mutton chops, or some sort of horrible scar, or even an abnormally large nose... oh wait-”

“You're an asshole,” Gavin grumbled, but turned in his grasp and grabbed his face, yanking him in to kiss him again. “Love you too, dickwad.”

Ray snickered before stepping back and returning to what he'd been doing, and Gavin smiled a bit as he turned away, distracted at least for the moment by his boyfriends. He'd felt terribly alone before but coming home, letting Ray divert his attention even a little, had him reminded that the others were still here, that nothing had changed there.  
  


* * *

  
They usually tried not to bring work business home, but it was very difficult, naturally, when they were all so involved, especially on days when they hadn't had time to get together and have a meeting.

Gavin actually managed to almost forget about Dan as they ate dinner together and fell into a very loud, boisterous argument about whether or not it was feasible to incorporate rocket launchers into the Rembrandt heist. At least until a lull fell in the conversation, and Geoff cleared his throat.

“Oh! News update, everyone. I was looking in with Kdin about how the fuck those police managed to work out we'd be at the bank yesterday.”

“And?” Michael prompted.

The mention of the bank had Gavin stiffening, nursing his glass of beer close to his lips as he watched Geoff nervously.

“And get this, it turns out the FBI have some new guy from England working with them. Supposedly he's specialising in finding out who we are. He worked on Ben's case over there.”

Gavin nearly dropped his glass as a shock of fear ripped through him. He set it down on the table with a shaking hand and twisted his fingers together nervously together under the table, struck by a sudden fright.

“Wow,” Ray said.

“Uh huh,” Geoff said, grinning. “Can you believe that? Our dear friend Agent Coal actually bringing help in! He must've really been desperate.”

“Sounds like this guy is pretty good if he managed to screw us over once already,” Jack pointed out, quietly. “What are we going to do about it?”

Ryan slammed his steak knife into the table with enough force that they all jumped.

“Naturally we are going to _kill him_ ,” he declared.

Michael laughed. Gavin did not; he'd flinched at the sudden sound and as Ryan's words hit him the horrible feeling in his stomach intensified.

“Jesus, dude,” Geoff muttered, laughing as well as he pulled the knife out of the table and rubbed a thumb over the indent it'd left. “Why the fuckdo you always want to kill everything?!”

“Not _everything_ ,” Ryan protested, rather feebly as Michael and Ray immediately started up with a loud list of all the people he'd 'gotten out of their way' in the last few months.

“Even the cows, Ryan,” Michael cried, shouting to be heard over Ray. “Even the fucking cows on the farm that one time-”

“The cow shed was _in our way_ , we couldn't land the plane with it there,” Ryan protested, raising his hands. “Blowing it up was a _solution_! But fine, what do you suggest then?”

“Troll them with a series of completely random moves for no reason other than to mess with their heads,” was Ray's helpful suggestion.

“Actually I like that,” Ryan mused, always one to play mind games.

Geoff smiled, but quickly sobered again. “Seriously though guys, some dude over here asking questions? The same one who helped to take down Ben? I know Ryan was joking but we actually do have to get rid of him.”

Gavin had been sitting in silence but he spoke up now, voice carefully flat.

“Do you have anything on him yet? Do you... know his name, or anything?” he asked.

Geoff glanced over at him and shook his head. “No, we don't. It's not the Inspector who took Ben down, I think it's someone under him, but we don't have details yet. I'll probably send you to take care of it soon, Ryan,” he added, and Ryan nodded.

“With pleasure,” he replied. “A friend of Agent Coal's is no friend of ours.”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed. “And with the big heist coming up we can't afford to have anyone fucking things up for us.”

Jack added something then but Gavin didn't hear what it was. His head was spinning with too much fear and nervousness, and he couldn't stop his leg from jittering around under the table. After a minute he pushed his chair back, muttering some excuse, and fled to the bathroom.

He'd intended to just calm down a little there but the moment he shut the door behind him he turned and vomited into the toilet, stomach rebelling suddenly because _it's Dan, it's Dan they're planning to kill and-_

 _Oh God I have to do_ something-

He leaned over and braced himself against the sink, chest heaving for a few moments. Looked up at himself in the mirror and felt even worse as he realised what a wreck he looked. He was not in control of this, not at all, and for a little while he focused on just breathing deeply and getting command of himself again.

After some time he splashed cold water on his face and turned away, slumping back against the wall and thinking hard.

_What the fuck do I do?_

If he didn't do _something_ they were going to kill Dan. And he couldn't let that happen.

_Should I contact him? Warn him?_

_But what the fuck would I even say to him?_

It seemed inevitable that he'd have to face up to Dan again, get in touch with him, but he had no idea how his friend would react and that _terrified_ him. Dan would hate him, he was sure of it, would probably never want to see him again let alone talk to him.

This was just a total nightmare and he felt so thoroughly out of his depth that for a moment he struggled to breath again-

“Gavin?”

A sudden knocking at the door startled him so badly that his hand went to his hip automatically, searching for the gun that was usually there. Then he remembered that he was at home, not in any sort of danger, and huffed out a hysterical sort of laugh.

“Gav?” Jack's voice came again. “You okay in there?”

He'd been gone too long, he realised. He flushed the toilet and washed his hands again and then paused, staring up at himself in the mirror.

Three deep breaths. Relax the shoulders, practice the smile. He lifted a hand to his face as though putting his mask on, a funny little gesture he always found helped him to get 'in character' when need be, and by the time he dropped it he looked as calm and poised as he usually did when he went out on a job.

“Coming,” he called back, his voice very steady, and opened the door.

Jack was staring at him in concern and Gavin smiled and smiled back at him until finally Jack cracked a small smile too.

“You ran off pretty suddenly back there, you alright?” Jack asked, and Gavin nodded.

“Fine. I skipped lunch and then ate too fast, ah ha. Dinner went in quickly and came out quicker, if you know what I mean.”

“Gross.” Jack pulled a face. “I don't need all the details.”

“Well, you'll get them anyway,” Gavin replied, and Jack laughed and swatted at him before turning to lead him back out to the others. Gavin trailed along behind, hands clenched into fists in his pockets to stop them shaking.

The others had finished eating while he was gone. Geoff and Ryan were standing by the architect's table, discussing something – _probably Dan,_ Gavin thought hysterically, _probably planning how to kill him right now –_ Jack moved over to join them and he himself sat down on the couch and watched as Michael ran about the flat with Ray on his shoulders, the other man apparently having decided that with his injured leg he was incapable of moving about and must now be transported everywhere.

It was funny to watch them; Ray shouting “Mush, mush,” every few seconds and Michael laughing as he swung him about before finally depositing him on the kitchen counter and kissing him senseless. But even that couldn't distract Gavin from his thoughts as he tried to vaguely plan how he could get in contact with Dan, what the best way to approach him might be.

He wasn't coming up with anything.

No matter what he thought of his mind just continually turned to worst case scenarios. Dan trying to kill him again. Dan hating him and shutting him out and refusing to heed his warning and ending up getting killed by Ryan. Agent Coal finding out about their association and arresting Dan and – and trying to get information out of him that he wouldn't have.

He was so worried that falling _asleep_ was the last thing he expected to do, but exhaustion and stress caught up with him so hard that somewhere in the middle of debating the merits of sending Dan some anonymous warning via carrier pigeon he just passed out on the couch.

He didn't even realise he'd fallen asleep until he woke up with a start. He had been dreaming but couldn't recall what about, some unremembered dread hanging over him as he sat up – someone had draped the couch throw over him – and blinked wildly about.

The apartment was quiet and dark, only the lamp on the side table on. Gavin fumbled for his phone, trying to work out what time it was, when a footfall in the apartment made his head whip around.

“Hey, Jumpy, it's just me,” Geoff said, and Gavin relaxed a little.

“What time is it?”

“Not too late,” Geoff replied, moving to sit next to him. He had a bottle and two glasses and Gavin reached for them, needing a drink more than anything after all that had happened. “I'm not surprised you passed out, it's been a busy few days.”

 _You're telling me_ , Gavin thought grimly, and knocked back a glass without saying anything.

There was a moment of companionable quiet as they sat together, drinking. Out the big window Gavin could see the lights of the city, some of them slowly blinking out as it got later, the quiet noises of night traffic down below. He got melancholic sometimes, late at night, thinking of just how far away he was now from where he'd started out. One of the others usually settled him.

Geoff sighed, the sound noisy in the silence.

“I remember when it was so much easier than this. Back when we were smaller. Less territory.” He gave a wry smile. “Not as many people trying to kill us.”

Gavin glanced over at him and Geoff turned to him, meeting his eyes.

“Not saying I preferred it that way. That's the thing with this business. You gotta keep going bigger. And I wouldn't trade what we have now for anything – it brought you guys to me, didn't it? But, you know. Sometimes I think it was a lot more peaceful before.”

“Yeah,” Gavin said softly.

“Anyway.” Geoff drained the rest of his drink and set his glass down. “When you make it big it pays to have good people by your side.”

“ _Good_ people,” Gavin repeated, the words twisting at something deep in his gut.

Geoff barked out a laugh. “I suppose none of us really are, are we? I mean people who are good at what they do. And people you can trust.” He looked at Gavin with a very fond smile and reached out, pinching at his cheek; Gavin couldn't help but laugh a bit as he squirmed away. “I was lucky to nab you from Burnie when I did. He'd've kept you to himself otherwise.”

Gavin smiled back at him, remembering how when he'd first come over here he'd been loaned out to just about everyone Burnie knew at some point, or occasionally kept working for the man himself.

He'd clicked with Geoff instantly.

He hadn't been as prominent then, but he'd still had a significant empire. That wasn't what had drawn Gavin to him though, it was something else about the man, not just his power or his ambition. He wasn't cruel. He thought of the rest of his crew as a family more than anything. And he'd just been so funny, so friendly, nothing like some of the people Gavin had run into back home. He'd never once been scared of Geoff despite his reputation. Had very quickly started looking up to him, seeking to get closer to him.

He was less in awe of Geoff now, having gotten to know him much better, but he still had that innate admiration for him. Still _loved_ him, deeply, and knowing it went two-ways now still amazed him sometimes at how lucky he was.

 _Lucky_.

He was one of Geoff's most important players now. Geoff placed a hell of a lot of trust in his hands and Gavin felt again a sudden flash of guilt that he hadn't confided in him what was going on. He had to do something about it quickly because even if Geoff and Ryan didn't make a move against Dan yet-

Dan might make a move against _them._

That if anything fuelled him against his fears a little; if there was one thing he would always do it was protect his boyfriends, this little family he'd created over here, this _home-_

(But didn't _Dan_ used to be your family, a treacherous voice whispered at the back of his mind – wasn't he your only home when you had nothing? Should you not be loyal to _him_?)

“Stealing this Rembrandt,” Geoff began, and Gavin looked up at him. “What do you think it'll mean for us?”

He felt a little like he was being quizzed, but answered honestly. “I... money? Recognition? Not that we need that, but. It'll be big. In the news and stuff.”

“It won't mean a God damn thing,” Geoff replied. “It'll make a splash, sure. But limelight fades. And we'll sell it, get a few million, and then end up spending it away. It doesn't mean a thing.”

“So why are we stealing it then?”

“Because it'll be fun,” Geoff said. “Because then we can say we did it. Why do we do anything? We all have enough money to retire comfortably, to head off somewhere no one knows any of our names or faces and just live together. It's not about the territory any more, Gav, it's about the six of us, and the shit we do – you know?”

Gavin knew.

He knew how intoxicating it could be, running on the adrenaline of the jobs they pulled. The thrill of the danger, of breaking the rules, of their victory whenever they got away with whatever it was when they were doing. It had never really been about the money.

“The police are trying to clean things up around here,” Geoff continued then. “But so many of them are corrupt anyway that it doesn't matter what they try and do. Achievement City is what it is. Everyone here has their own agenda.”

Gavin nodded, mutely. The mention of the police had him tense again, all his tiredness flooding back in.

Geoff reached out and squeezed his knee.

“Anyway,” he said, and gave a small smile. “You've seemed pretty stressed lately. I know this can get a bit overwhelming. Fuck, you're still so young and here you are doing so much for the crew.”

“I can handle it,” Gavin began, automatically.

“I know you can,” Geoff replied. “And like I said. You're good at what you do. So we'll be fine, okay? We'll pull this off and then sit back and watch the chaos and then take a nice big holiday somewhere with the money we get from selling that art. Kay?”

Gavin nodded, and Geoff smiled a bit. And then pulled his phone out.

“And now I have more jobs for you,” he announced cheerfully, and Gavin groaned exaggeratedly. Geoff laughed.

“Sorry, buddy. Just a couple of people you gotta meet with tomorrow. Lindsey's found two potential new hires. Some other guy has a job offer for us, some dude he wants us to rob – just go scope that out. And – this one's interesting – some mercenary got in touch with us today saying he has a clean line to Agent Coal if we want him to take him out. That could solve a bunch of problems if he's legit. Go check him out and see if he's for real. Sound alright?”

“Will do,” Gavin said with a nod, without even really thinking about it.

He did what Geoff told him to. Not blindly of course, but that was his purpose here, his duty to the crew. He thought again of how much he'd looked up to Geoff when he first came here, to Burnie, too, the man who'd kept him safe and saved his life and gotten him out of England when he started getting a little too close to the fire.

Gavin didn't often evaluate his morals much. There were rules, of course – don't kill civilians, don't steal from people who have nothing – but in general playing the conscience game was a bad, bad idea in their business.

But he felt a sudden horror at himself as he realised, how the fuck was he meant to tell Dan that he followed Geoff willingly – that he loved the man, that he _enjoyed_ what he did?

 _Who am I?_ he thought, with a sudden distress.

Great. Great fucking time for an _existential crisis_ on top of everything else.

“Thanks Gav,” Geoff said, snapping him out of it a bit. He leaned in and kissed Gavin, strong hands gripping him by the shoulders, grounding and reassuring in the way his presence always had been. Gavin kissed back, hands coming up to grip the front of Geoff's hoodie. When they pulled apart Geoff ruffled his hair and Gavin looked at him – moustache wildly dishevelled, fraying at the ends, eyes a bit tired, unarmed – and remembered that he hadn't fallen in love with Ramsey, leader of the Fake AH Crew. It was _Geoff_ , he'd fallen in love with Geoff. Geoff who liked to cuddle while watching TV and wrestle while drunk, Geoff with his infectious laugh and intense protectiveness over not just the other five but the more minor members of the crew too.

His relationship with the others wasn't something he could ever bring himself to feel sorry for, or guilty about. But again he felt awful for not telling Geoff what was going on, even as the other man got up and wandered off back to his little home office to do some late night work.

Gavin got up and mechanically went to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. Despite his nap earlier he was still exhausted and it seemed like he'd have a lot of work to do tomorrow.

He was still no closer to finding a solution to his problem.

But it looked like he also couldn't just sit back and let it play out. With the others knowing of Dan's existence, things had been set in motion.

He paused at the doorway to the bedroom. It was dark but he could see the shape of the others sleeping inside, on the beds they'd pushed together to get something remotely big enough for all of them to sleep in. Michael was sprawled out on his own, Ray and Jack cuddled up together.

Gavin felt suddenly startlingly alone, standing there watching them, lost in his own uncertainty. He paused in the doorway, watching them, when a warm hand descended on his shoulder.

“You okay?” Ryan asked quietly.

Gavin turned to look at him. The other man's face was soft with concern. Dressed as he was in an old t-shirt, hair damp and curling from the shower, he didn't look like a terrifying hit man at all. Like the man who Geoff was going to send to kill Dan.

“Everyone's asking me that lately,” Gavin muttered.

“Because you seem stressed,” Ryan replied, and ran a hand gently down Gavin's arm. “Come sleep, you need it.”

He grabbed Gavin's hand and Gavin let himself be led into the bedroom. Random thoughts kept striking him – _if I ask Ryan not to kill Dan he won't – I know he'd do anything for me – but he'll ask why – what would he think if I told him?_

But he was tired, above all, his mind sluggish, and he let Ryan guide him into the bed where he lay down and pulled an arm around Jack's waist, pressing his face in close against his boyfriend's back. Felt Ryan settle behind him, Michael making a muffled noise somewhere to the left of them all as they accidentally woke him up.

He was tired enough that he started to drift off as soon as he was lying down, no matter how valiantly he tried to stay awake to think of a plan. He knew that continuing to put off doing anything was a terrible idea, but for now he was tired, and maybe the morning would cast things in a new light.

He let himself sleep.

* * *

* * *

  
Dan took one final drag of his cigarette before dropping it to scuff out underfoot. It joined the rest of the assorted rubbish and refuse that littered the shady ground under a large concrete bridge that spanned a long-dry waterway in one of the big, desolate parks around Achievement City.

It had probably been pleasant here once, even pretty, but like the rest of the city it had gone to the dogs. The entire park was wildly overgrown, filled with shadowy corners and now a haunt for dealers, bums and other unsavoury sorts.

Not the sort of place you wanted to walk alone at night – but the perfect spot for him to meet the frontman.

He paced over to the wall and leaned against it, fingers drumming nervously against his thigh. His leg still ached dully, but hidden in the dark shadows of the bridge as he was, it would be easy to take Gavin by surprise. Or he hoped so, anyway.

_Jesus Christ, what am I doing?_

He'd been second guessing himself all night, and as he waited here now – glancing compulsively at his watch every few minutes – his doubts returned full force.

A secret undercover mission that none of his bosses had signed off on – with one of the most wanted men in the city and a major target of their case – if this went wrong, or if anyone found out, he was _fucked_.

That was the least of his worries, though. Actually pulling this off was a much greater concern.

It had been hard to set this up simply because Achievement City was so fucking unfamiliar to him. Just finding this meeting spot had been a hassle – he'd had to call Huang again and ask her for a good location. And then, of course, get here at the ass-crack of dawn to scout out the area, familiarise himself with it.

The second Gavin showed up, his cover wouldn't matter any more – it was him actually _showing up_ that was the big problem.

Posing as a mercenary, Dan had called one of the numbers Huang had given him – from an unlisted disposable phone of course – and asked some unknown contact of Ramsey's to pass on a message.

He had an offer; he knew how much they hated Lynton Coal and he himself had managed to gain access to the man. He'd take him out for Ramsey, or capture him – for a price, of course. Meet for more details.

He just hoped it was an offer Ramsey couldn't pass up.

But God, as he waited here now – feeling sicker and sicker as each minute passed by – he couldn't help but worry.

What if he hadn't been convincing enough?

What if Ramsey sent someone else, not Gavin?

Or – and God, he hadn't even _thought_ of this at the time – what if Gavin had already told his crew – _his lovers_ – about Dan's return? What if Gavin recognised this was him and came along with all the others in tow, to capture or kill him? What if Gavin saw him as an obstacle now, a problem, that had to be removed in the usual manner of the Fake AH Crew?

He didn't know. He just didn't fucking know what to expect anymore-

Or what the actual fuck he was going to say to Gavin if he did show up.

 _Why_. That would probably be a decent start. Just a hell of a lot of _why, why, why-_

A sound in the otherwise silent park had him freezing, on edge. He waited on tenterhooks as he heard a motorbike pull up nearby and someone get off.

For a few long, tense moments nobody appeared. He could hear someone walking around out there – light footfalls that he would have missed if he hadn't been listening hard for them. Gavin was careful, he realised, checking around the park rather than just walking right into the meeting.

He would do well to be careful, Dan thought grimly, as he braced himself for what he was about to do. This was not going to be a conversation, after all, it was going to be a trap.

Finally he heard someone coming down the side of the bridge, and readied himself, taking a steadying breath and getting himself into the zone.

 _I can take down one target. No problem_.

The frontman appeared standing in the centre of the waterway, the bright noonday sun behind him. Dan's breath caught a little at the sight of him. He was wearing a plain white mask and for a moment he was reminded of his dream.

If he hadn't known it was Gavin under there he probably wouldn't have recognised him. The wild hair was there still, sticking up around the mask, but his stance, his bearing was completely different to what Dan remembered of him. He stood straighter, more confidently, looked ready to snap into action at a moment's notice.

The frontman glanced about. With that blank mask on his face Dan couldn't tell what he was thinking. He looked around, and then held up his wrist and glanced at his watch.

In that moment of distraction Dan charged forward and tackled him, practically leaping at him from a few metres away. He landed directly on top of him, knocking them both to the ground, and heard the other man give a muffled grunt as the breath was knocked out for him.

Dan acted efficiently, brutally. Pinned him down for a moment as he got a better grip on him – he was struggling by now but Dan kept his arms trapped under him so he couldn't go for his gun or a knife – and then, when he had him under control, flipped him over and struck him in the mouth.

It was a precise blow that snapped his jaw sideways; he slumped back immediately, dazed. It wouldn't knock him out for long though, Dan knew, and he lowered him back down to the ground.

That had gone surprisingly well. From what he'd heard he hadn't thought it would be so easy to overpower him.

He quickly cast about the other's body and pulled not one but _two_ guns from his clothes, along with a knife and what he was pretty sure was some sort of taser. Then he hesitated before reaching forward and pulling the mask off.

 _Gavin_.

It was definitely him. His eyes had slipped shut, his face relaxed in unconsciousness, but fuck, Dan would have recognised him anywhere.

Something clenched at his heart at properly seeing his friend again, up close for the first time in so long. Gavin looked older now – of course he did – but he still hadn't grown into his nose and for a moment Dan almost smiled, overcome with such a wave of nostalgia just at the _sight_ of him.

It faded quickly though as he remembered just why they were here. Even unconscious Gavin looked exhausted and he figured that was why he'd gotten the jump on him so easily. But a blow like that would only have stunned him, wouldn't have him out long. He had to act quickly.

In the abutments of the bridge, covered in spray painted tags and obscene graffiti, were a set of wooden doors. There were two storage rooms within the abutments themselves, that used to be used for storing equipment for the care taking of the park; they had long fallen into disuse but he'd broken the lock and gotten in. It would do for now. Give them a little privacy to have a chat.

 _Oh God_. It was hitting him now that he'd have to confront Gavin as soon as he woke up. He looked down at the body with a frown, and then at the two guns he'd taken off him.

His anger from earlier rose up again as the shock of seeing Gavin subsided. This wasn't the Gavin he remembered, who had no idea how to shoot, or throw a punch, or ride a fucking motorbike.

This was a stranger, a man who had committed hundreds of crimes, who was in a relationship with five men who'd done even worse.

The fury surged through him again and he bent down and grabbed Gavin, slinging him up over his shoulder perhaps a little more roughly than necessary, turning to carry him back towards the storage rooms.

 _Time for you to fucking explain yourself_.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there must be anger and angst gotten out of the way before people can start healing >:)

Gavin woke up slowly and painfully.

For a moment he could not remember what had happened; his jaw hurt, that was the first thing he became aware of. Then an unfamiliar ceiling swam into view above him. It was made of concrete and as he slowly regained his senses he looked around. He was in some sort of strange, small room, the walls lined with shelves stacked with garden tools, bags of potting mix and weedkiller, a few large bins in the corner. The whole place smelled dank and musty as though it had not been used in a very long time.

_What the fuck_.

It came back to him suddenly – what he'd been doing in the park, the meeting – the _ambush_ –

He sat bolt upright, alarm surging through him as he realised he'd been tricked, trapped – only to be pulled up short. With a jolt he realised that he was sitting before a closed door that presumably opened out into the park. There was a gate of metal bars covering the door, and his wrists were handcuffed behind his back, looped through the bars behind him.

Another pang of alarm – tied down, helpless, that wasn't bloody good – he struggled to his feet and tugged frantically at the cuffs, but they were the proper sort, police issue, and bound tight enough that they dug in and pinched at his skin as he yanked.

“Don't pull at those,” a familiar voice rang out suddenly. “You'll hurt yourself.”

Gavin's heart nearly stopped in his chest as he turned to see Dan stepping from where he'd been sitting beside the shelves, watching him. All he could do was stare, eyes wide, mind going into overdrive at seeing him in person again.

Dan looked older – so much older that it was ridiculous. The baby fat of youth had thinned away but he looked gaunt beyond even that, haggard and tired and his eyes dark. He'd grown a beard and it made him look harsher somehow. He limped a little as he stepped forward, and Gavin felt a pang of guilt as he remembered how he'd stabbed him before he realised who he was.

“Dan,” he croaked out, not even bothering to hide the crushing mix of emotions that must be playing out on his face at the sight of him.

“Gav,” Dan replied. By contrast he was calm. _Too calm_ , Gavin realised with a sinking feeling. His face was cold and set, like he was keeping himself perfectly under control. Like he didn't want to give anything away.

It made something stir uneasily in Gavin's chest. For a moment they just stared at each other – it had been so long, so _damn_ long – and he saw Dan's composure break a little, just for a second, revealing some vulnerability underneath.

_What happened to you,_ he wondered, _what happened in Afghanistan,_ but he was too afraid to ask.

Dan stepped forward, right up to Gavin, and for a moment he couldn't breathe, his eyes locked with Dan's. Just drinking in the sight of him, _alive,_ so close he could feel the warmth of him. Dan's hand came up, grasping Gavin's chin and turning his face this way and that, examining the bruises he'd left there when they last met. The cut on his lip and his head wound still taped over with butterfly stitches. Gavin was helpless to move, transfixed by just being _near_ him again; Dan's fingers were calloused and rough and he smelt like cigarettes.

“You didn't used to smoke,” he blurted out, and the funny still moment between them was broken. Dan's face shuttered over again and he let go of Gavin and stepped back. Gavin leaned forward automatically, chasing his touch – some innate part of him still wanted to be close, to... to hug him, or something, because being near Dan again was dredging it all up, how much he'd _missed_ him. But the handcuffs stopped him, pulling him up painfully short with a loud rattle against the bars.

He fell back against the metal gate, moving his wrists gingerly. “What's all this for then?” he asked, twisting his neck to look at them.

Dan folded his arms. He'd gone cold and hard again.

“To stop you from running,” he replied grimly. “Or from attacking me.”

Gavin realised abruptly the absence of his gun, the weight of his backup or of his knife at his belt. He winced.

“I wouldn't attack you,” he replied, but Dan just raised his eyebrows.

“How the fuck am I meant to believe that when you're part of the Fake AH Crew?” he demanded, and reality slammed back into Gavin.

His heart sank.

_He knows – okay – of course he knows_ , he realised, hysterically, because there was barely restrained anger in Dan's tone and it was rising up on his face by the second as he watched Gavin realise that he'd been caught out.

“Dan, I-”

“You can explain?” Dan interrupted, voice tight. “You'd fucking well better explain.”

“I thought you were _dead_ ,” Gavin said, helplessly.

Again that shimmer of vulnerability before Dan closed off again, folding his arms tight across his chest.

“I thought you were dead too,” he said, coolly. “But apparently that's what you damn well _wanted_. I came back and they told me you'd been murdered – but it was Michael Burns, wasn't it, who helped you fake that?”

There was raw pain and anger in Dan's voice and Gavin could see it, just how _furious_ he was. This was as bad as he'd anticipated it being and-

“I didn't think you'd come back,” he pleaded, “If I'd known you weren't dead, I'd've...”

He would have what? _Waited_? Stayed in England? Not gotten involved with Burnie and all the rest? That was a what-if he couldn't even comprehend because _dead, dead, Dan had been dead_ and it had changed _everything_ -

“So my death is some _excuse_ for all this?” Dan snapped.

“No!"

“Then what is?!” Dan cried, throwing his hands up. “Tell me what the hell _is_ because I don't fucking understand!”

There was a terrible tense silence.

Gavin had no words.

His eyes kept flickering to Dan's and back down to the floor, unable to hold his gaze. How the hell could he even _begin_ to explain this, to explain the crew, and Geoff, and the others, and why he had gotten into this and why he couldn't leave now – how could he possibly justify it? It was a question he'd never been forced to face before – had ignored because it was easier to just _live_ and know that he was happy here, fine here – but now Dan was demanding answers.

Answers Gavin knew he wouldn't like to hear.

Dan was staring at him intently but Gavin couldn't say anything, just looked away, at the floor, and after a moment he heard Dan let out a long, slow stream of breath.

“You're not denying it,” Dan said flatly. “So it's true then. You're here by choice. This is what you want. This life – this _crew_ -”

“I got mixed up in stuff. Things just... escalated, I don't know, everything changed after you died,” Gavin spoke up, but Dan just rounded on him, hands cutting through the air as he gesticulated violently.

“Oh things _changed_ alright – _you_ changed! Is the rest of it true too, then? You're _fucking_ them all as well? Is that what it's about – the money, the sex-”

Oh God, he'd somehow found out about that too. But that was the one thing that Gavin refused to feel shame about, he frowned at Dan, straightening up a bit.

“That's not how it is,” he said tightly. “It's not just _that_.”

How could he even begin to express what the six of them had. He opened his mouth but couldn't put it into words.

“It's not just that,” he repeated, helplessly. “We're _together_ , it's not... it's not just about sex.”

“Oh, that makes it _so_ much better.” If anything his answer had only infuriated Dan more. His composure was breaking a little now and he stepped towards Gavin again and gripped his shoulders, staring into his eyes searchingly.

“Don't you _remember_?” he asked, almost a plea. “Don't you remember any of it? Everything we used to do, to say, back in England – how much we wanted to be better than all this, we wanted to-”

“Of course I remember,” Gavin snapped back.

“So you just don't care then,” Dan cried.

That wasn't true.

That wasn't true but Gavin had no excuse, nothing he could put into words – he was bad with it, anyway, expressing himself, and so much of it all was just wrapped up in what he'd _felt_ after Dan died. Everything had happened so fast. It wasn't like Dan was saying, there was never just _one_ point where he decided to abandon all his principles, to become a felon, to flee the country and come here to this city.

Again, his lack of a response only made Dan's face fall further. He reared away, hands coming up to run desperately over his face, and groaned. Obviously as lost for what to do as Gavin was.

“Jesus Christ, Gav,” he said finally, filled with some terrible hopelessness. It wrenched at something in Gavin's gut. “I can't fucking believe you. After everything we said to each other you just threw it all away like it's nothing-”

“It wasn't... it wasn't like that,” Gavin said, tripping over his words. Dan had turned away now and he could see him shaking, his shoulders stiff and tense under his coat, fists clenched tightly. “Just listen a sec, B-”

“Don't you _dare fucking call me that_!” Dan rounded on him violently, and he looked so furious that Gavin flinched back, half-expecting to be hit, the handcuffs rattling noisily against the bars.

Not once in his life had he ever been afraid of Dan, had ever thought he might hurt him. But he stared up at him now, shrinking back against the bars, and Dan – half-started towards him – stared back at him. The rift between them suddenly seemed bigger than ever and everything about this just felt so _wrong_ that a great upset rose up in Gavin's chest and throat, choking any potential words to death.

Dan's eyes were wide and they were both breathing heavily and he could see it, in the other's face as some of his walls fell down a little. Dan was just as scared as he was, just as capable of getting hurt – _had_ been hurt by every word from Gavin's mouth, every explanation that he _wasn't_ able to give him.

There was an awful, awful silence. Gavin bit his lip as it hit him what Dan had just said; his old nickname for the other man had slipped out without him even thinking about it. To have that shut down... it felt a hell of a lot like Dan was _giving up_ on him, and that hurt so much that he didn't think he could stand it.

“It's not like you're saying,” he said finally, quietly, when Dan turned away and he himself slumped back against the gate. “Achievement City's not like what we saw back home. All the police here are corrupt anyway and it's... it's not about hurting people, or stepping on people, it's not even about money really.”

“So you didn't try to rob that bank the other day?” Dan demanded, coldly. “Or how about that one two months ago? You didn't break into that convenience store, or blow up that service station, your people in England didn't rob that vault? I don't have a long, long list of people who were killed by your boyfriends, Jesus _Christ_ , the things I've heard, they're all _monsters_ -”

“They're not monsters,” Gavin spat, getting angry in turn; it was silly, he knew, to expect Dan to just understand, but being looked at like he was the scum of the earth was starting to hit him where it hurt. “They're not-”

“Just _listen_ to yourself, Gav,” Dan cried, and seized him by the shoulders and shook him. “Listen to yourself trying to _defend_ this-”

Dan was getting too angry, too worked up, and being shouted at from this close, being grabbed, had Gavin automatically dropping into the role of placating conciliator that he played whenever Geoff sent him to deal with angry contacts who they still needed. It was a defence mechanism more than anything else, his features schooling into a mask of artificial calm.

“Look. You're angry, I get that, but you need to calm down,” he said, gentle but firm even if he was trying as hard as he could not to break down shaking. “Come on, we can talk about this. We'll work it out. But you need to calm down first.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Dan stared at him with red rimmed eyes and his gaze seemed to pierce right into Gavin's soul. His heart dropped as he realised that Dan wasn't fooled. That even after so long he knew him so well as to be able to tell when he was playing a role – it made his heart _ache_ suddenly because it had been a long, long time since anyone had known him that closely. He felt awful suddenly for trying his tricks on Dan, Dan who wasn't a client or an enemy or someone he should be trying to control.

Dan scowled at him and took a step back, hands rising defensively. “Don't do that,” he said then, sounding almost scared under his anger. “You're trying to manipulate me. Oh my God. I can't believe this.” He ran his hands over his face even as Gavin let the act drop, let his shoulders slump again.

“Dan-”

“I don't know who the hell you are anymore,” Dan said, voice rising miserably. “You really did die back in England.”

It felt like the breath had been punched out of Gavin. Dan was staring at him, and while his mouth was set in a harsh sneer, he looked like he was on the verge of tears, he was so angry. He was obviously very upset, and Gavin was very upset too, and he knew, above all, that Dan needed an _explanation_ – but he had none to give him. He couldn't tell him what he wanted to hear.

“So what now?” Dan demanded after a moment of silence. “What the fuck are we going to do now? If I try to turn you in, or your _boyfriends_ – will you stop me?” A beat. “Will you _kill_ me?”

“Don't be stupid,” Gavin snapped. He started to pull at the handcuffs again, discreetly, thinking suddenly that he had to get out of here to at least regain _some_ control over the situation. But Dan was more astute than he'd realised, and he noticed immediately. His face clouded over.

“Oh, sorry, am I _boring_ you?” he demanded. “Do you wish I was dead again?”

Something snapped in Gavin then. He was upset, and stressed, and he could see exactly why Dan was so angry – knew he had every right to be – but suddenly he was terribly angry himself because “Of course not, fuck you, _fuck you_ , stop putting words in my mouth! God, Dan, I hoped you were alive, I hoped and hoped but you _didn't come back_. For fuck's sake, of course I don't want you dead.”

“But it would make it so much _easier_ , wouldn't it? Because if I asked you to give this all up right now, to do the _right fucking thing_ , you _wouldn't,_ would you?”

Gavin grit his teeth and yanked furiously at the handcuffs again; Dan laughed loudly, a harsh, hysterical laugh.

“Of course you wouldn't! You know what, I still don't get it, how could you fucking do this to me-”

“ _To you_ ,” Gavin shouted back. The handcuffs were biting into him hard now but the pain was cathartic even as he cried, “You were _gone_! I had nothing, _nothing_ – and then I had _them_ so-”

“You were gone too!” Dan's hand cut through the air violently. He was practically screaming by now, “You were gone and _I_ didn't fuck off to America to become the bloody fuck buddy of the biggest mob boss this side of the country, Jesus _fucking_ Christ I _made_ something of myself – just how we planned – just how we _planned_. Make it better, right, _B?_ ” He spat it so mockingly that Gavin couldn't help his flinch, “Guess you only cared about making it better for _yourself_ -”

“Fuck you,” Gavin shot back. Dan's words were cruel and hitting everywhere it hurt most, and they were just screaming at each other by this point and _this isn't what I want, this isn't what I want_ but he couldn't _stop_ , too many pent up emotions bursting out- “ _Fuck you-”_

“How many fucking people have you killed-”

“How many people have _you_ killed?” Gavin shot back, and regretted it immediately.

Dan blanched, stepping back like he'd been hit, and a terrible wave of shame washed over Gavin because Dan was _right_. Dan was right, _he_ wasn't a good person. It was Dan who was all along. Dan who'd gone to serve his country, Dan who'd gone missing in action. Dan who'd become an officer of the law for nothing other than the altruistic purpose of _helping_ people.

Dan who was faced with him now, this terrible dark secret that was going to ruin him no matter how things played out. There was no way out of this.

His anger drained away leaving him nothing but sad and tired, guilt eating away at the pit of his stomach.

“Dan...” He trailed off as Dan flapped a dismissive hand at him, turning away. “I... I didn't mean that, I'm sorry-”

But before Dan could reply, the door to the storage room was flung open with a terrific bang, and Ryan and Ray burst in.  
  


* * *

* * *

  
Dan jumped a mile when the door slammed open. He whirled around but didn't have time to so much as draw his gun before Brownman and Vagabond stormed into the room.

In the brief glimpse he got of them before he was charged, he realised exactly why Vagabond had been given so many terrifying – if trite – nicknames. The Grim Reaper, the Ghost, the Harbinger – all terribly dramatic, but suitable, because quite frankly Dan had seen few things as terrifying as that black skull's face suddenly appearing in the doorway, with its ghastly plastic grin and dead blank holes of eyes.

All he got, however, was about two seconds' eyeful of that horror before the man – as tall as Dan himself and just as broad – was leaping towards him. Taken by surprise, he pulled his gun out but didn't even fire off a shot before Vagabond slammed into him and drove a heavy boot into his injured leg.

Dan dropped like a stone as pain exploded in the injury. He let out a ragged cry even as Vagabond knocked the gun from his hand.

The next thing he knew he was staring up at the barrel of Vagabond's gun, and a shock of raw, primal fear coursed through him-

“Ryan!” Gavin yelled, suddenly, desperately. “Don't kill him!”

Vagabond's head turned towards him and Dan instinctively took his chance; he reached up and grabbed the man's wrist, trying to turn his aim away, but Vagabond was not to be taken by surprise so easily. In a single fluid motion he wrenched his arm from Dan's grasp and backhanded him hard across the face with the butt of the gun. The hard metal cracked across his jawbone and he crumpled to the floor again, momentarily dazed-

“Stop!” he heard Gavin yell again, his voice funnily distant as Dan's head swam dizzily. “Don't hurt him!”

Dan reached up, gingerly touching his jaw as he regained his senses. He froze as the barrel of the gun bumped against the back of his head again.

“On your knees.” Vagabond's voice was low and deep. He'd expected it to be coldly devoid of emotion, in keeping with his horrid blank mask, but rather, it was brimming with anger.

Seething, Dan obeyed, shifting up onto his knees and putting his hands behind his head. Vagabond kept his gun trained directly at his forehead, gaze never leaving him.

Dan looked up to see Gavin watching with wide, distressed eyes; he looked not relieved at this rescue, but rather horrified, still straining desperately against his bonds.

“You alright, Gav?” Brownman had gone up next to him and reached out to tilt his face up, in weird mockery of what Dan had done earlier. Gavin just gave an impatient nod.

“I'm fine, I'm fine. Ryan, don't you dare bloody shoot him,” he added, still, it seemed, fearful that Vagabond – or _Ryan_ , apparently – would do something.

“Why the fuck not?” Ryan demanded, and turned back to Dan. “Did you touch him?” he added, gun pressing against Dan's forehead hard enough to leave a mark.

Dan kept his jaw clenched defiantly shut. Brownman came up then, and held out a hand.

“Keys,” he said, and for a moment Dan stared up at him uncomprehendingly.

“For the handcuffs, idiot,” Brownman drawled.

Slowly, Dan reached into his pocket and produced them, dropping them into the other's waiting palm. He realised as he did so that the gun he'd taken from Gavin was tucked into the back of his waistband still.

“Thank you,” Brownman said sarcastically, heading back over to Gavin's side. “Geoff tried to call you,” he added, as he ducked down behind Gavin to unlock the cuffs. “Got worried when you didn't pick up. Lucky Ryan and I decided to go check up on you.”

“You didn't have to,” Gavin began, but Ryan let out a great snort.

“Really? Looks a hell of a lot like this guy turned on you. What the fuck did you want?” he demanded, jamming the gun harder against Dan's head. “Someone hire you to take him out? Or hold him hostage? You-”

“ _Ryan_.” Now free, Gavin surged forward and grabbed Ryan's arm. His voice had that artificial tightness to it again; Dan could tell he was struggling to appear calm, unaffected as he said, “He's not a mercenary.”

“Who the fuck is he then?” Ryan asked, and turned towards Gavin.

Gavin opened his mouth then froze and Dan realised suddenly that he _hadn't_ told the others about him yet, that he, too, had been unsure just how the fuck to deal with all this.

But right now Ryan and Brownman had both turned their attention to him, and Dan took his chance.

Snatching the gun from his waistband, he took aim at the single lightbulb on the ceiling and fired. They were plunged into pitch blackness; there were no windows here under the bridge. Gavin gave a startled squawk and the others uttered curses; Dan dived sideways, rolling out from where Ryan had been looming over him and pelting for the door. He could see a sliver of light from the crack under it, the only thing even visible in the complete darkness.

Sprinting out, he burst into the light and fresh air. After the dank enclosed space of the abutments it felt like breaking free from a prison, but he didn't have time to stop and take it in. Fuelled by adrenaline; he sprinted up the embankment, nearly slipping and tripping on the wet grass. He dimly heard Gavin and Ryan's voices rising behind him, shouting, but didn't look back to see if he was being pursued.

He sprinted to where he'd parked his car almost in a daze, stumbling several times. His leg was bleeding again and throbbing with pain, and he felt lightheaded from being hit in the jaw so hard-

(And beyond that still sick, still shaking and angry from everything that had happened, still struggling to take it all in-)

He got into the car, realised he'd climbed into the passenger seat because everything was on the wrong fucking side in this bloody country, corrected himself and then looked down towards the bridge.

They hadn't followed him.

He wondered what Gavin was saying to them right now.

That wasn't to say they weren't about to come running after him, probably shooting, and he put the key in the ignition and drove quickly off, still reeling.  
  


* * *

   
Dan parked in the street outside his apartment and paused, clutching the steering wheel tight, heaving deep breaths.

_Shit,_ was all he could think. _Shit, shit, shit_.

His heart was racing still, not in fear or even panic but something else, something that had him feeling sick and exhausted and _sad_ , under everything else.

He was no closer to answers.

Gavin hadn't explained a God damn _thing_ , he realised belatedly. And while on the one hand the confirmation that Gavin was here of his own will, the fact that his friend didn't have a justification for all this made him feel sick – he also, looking back on it, rather guiltily realised that tying him up and yelling at him probably hadn't been the best course of action. He hadn't given him much of a chance to get himself in order, to tell him just what exactly had happened over in England that led him here.

_Shit_ , he thought again, and clenched his fists tight, letting his head drop forward against the steering wheel as he heaved deep breaths.

It had been awful, seeing him again. Facing off against each other like that, both scared, both angry. For a moment – for a moment, before he'd let his horror and disgust at all this take over... he'd wanted to embrace Gavin, but he couldn't – _we didn't even fucking ask each other how we've been doing this whole time_ -

It had been easy, in his anger, to let himself see Gavin as a stranger. As this changed, older man who carried a gun and wore a mask and made it his job to manipulate people. And perhaps he'd deliberately clung onto that change because it hurt less.

But he'd seen it, glimpses of the awkward little Gavin he knew still under there. His voice and how he tripped over his words and how when he got nervous he fidgeted and pressed his lips together and wouldn't make eye contact. _B._ It had him longing to see the rest of the old Gavin; his humour, his smile, his funny laugh, everything Dan had missed about him but hadn't seen today because they were both so emotionally wrung out.

Dan closed his eyes. He kept remembering how gently Brownman had touched Gavin's face. He didn't know much about the guy – Vagabond had a worse reputation – but everything he had heard had spoken of violence, of a brusque, uncaring nature, someone who cared about the money he got from jobs and little else.

That wasn't what he'd seen today, even in the tiny glimpse he got of their interactions.

_God damn it_. He felt sick again. He hadn't wanted to hurt Gavin – _still_ didn't – and if anything the only thing he'd gotten out of this meeting was the realisation that Gavin didn't want to hurt him either.

He'd been just as upset as Dan was and hadn't... hadn't seemed _bad_ , at least not the way the gang members back home were bad. If anything that made it harder, because it would have been easy to cut ties if Gavin had been evil, had been revelling in what he was doing.

But he hadn't.

Dan cursed again, rubbing his hands over his face. His head still ached, a dull throbbing pain. He couldn't tell if it was from being hit or if it was just a migraine.

One thing was for sure; it was exhausting to hold onto anger and already he could feel it fizzling away leaving him just feeling upset. He'd missed Gavin so much that to finally meet up with him only to find himself able to do nothing but vent his anger at him – it left a bad taste in his mouth.

His phone buzzed suddenly in his pocket and he fumbled it out, glancing at the contact ID and sighing when he realised it was Coal.

He took a deep breath, composing himself, making sure his voice wouldn't shake-

(Tried not to think of how doing so reminded him of Gavin, that artificial mask he'd worn as he tried to calm Dan down with smooth words that weren't his own, the words of a stranger and a liar-)

“Sergeant Gruchy,” he said, picking up. “Coal?”

“Where the hell have you been all day?” Coal demanded. “Get down here.”  
  


* * *

   
Dan slunk into his office and tried to act natural. He felt rattled, like everyone was staring at him through the glass walls. Like somehow they _knew_ what he'd done, what he was hiding from them.

And almost immediately he slipped up.

He felt a hard edge in his inner coat pocket as he sat down and reached to see what it was only to pull out the mask he'd taken from Gavin; he'd stuffed it in there and forgotten about it. He was staring at it, momentarily confused, when Coal stormed into the room and froze as he saw it too.

“Where the fuck did you get that?” Coal asked, and Dan jumped.

“I – I,” he stuttered, guiltily, dropping the mask on his desk.

Coal moved forward and snatched it up between the tips of his fingers. “Is this what I fucking think it is?”

“I...” Dan trailed off.

“What happened to your face?” Coal turned to him, staring at him intently, and he realised that this was it. The point where he could come clean or keep lying.

_I could turn Gavin in right now_.

A crawling guilt set upon him because it was the right thing to do, it was the right damn thing to do – cut ties right here, put every effort into bringing down the Fake AH Crew with what he now knew – Gavin had made his choice and Dan could make his, here and now-

But he couldn't.

Somehow he still couldn't bring himself to do it, still felt like there might be more he could dig up, some way to convince Gavin to... to turn over a new leaf, or something, some way to just _sort this out_.

Still, he couldn't completely lie. He chose his words carefully even if he had little idea what the fuck he was doing.

“I was following up a lead today,” he replied. “I ran into the frontman. Had him and was gonna bring him in when Vagabond and Brownman intercepted me.”

“You fucking _had him_?” Coal demanded. “You had a lead so good that you _got hold of the fucking frontman_ and you didn't _tell me_? If I'd sent backup or come along we might've been able to keep a hold of him!”

Dan just stared at him a bit dumbly and Coal slammed a fist against the desk.

“God damn it, Gruchy. You can't just waltz in here and act like the rules don't apply to you. This is _my_ fucking investigation; you clear every _fucking_ thing by me before you do it. You're not in charge, not here, not in this damn country – you can't just do what you like.”

Dan nodded silently and Coal continued to scowl.

“Well, you pulled his mask off – what the fuck did he look like then? You get anything from him?”

“Not really,” Dan replied. “The others came pretty quickly. He was....” he paused, unsure how much he should lie. There was no way they could get Gavin just from a description, surely?

“Young,” he settled on finally. “Pretty normal looking.”

“You know better than to give a vague-ass description like that,” Coal snapped. “I'll set up a sketch artist for you to talk to. In the mean time, give me that.” He held out a hand for the mask and Dan handed it over numbly. “We might be able to pull something from it.”

Dan nodded again and Coal headed for the door, grumbling. He paused in the doorway and jabbed a finger at Dan.

“You're going to tell me everything. And that's the last fucking time you keep a lead to yourself. _My_ case. _My_ rules. Understood?”

“Yes sir.” It slipped out automatically, even if technically he was a consultant here, even if Coal wasn't his direct superior. As it was, the man looked very pleased at the show of subservience, eyes glittering with something a bit nasty before he turned and left the room.

Dan sighed. He felt heavy with disgust – at himself for lying, at Gavin for putting him in this position. At Coal for shouting at him, even if it was probably well deserved.

_You're on a slippery slope, Gruchy_. Withholding evidence, directly tampering in an investigation like this... those were serious offences. He was in way too deep now.

_What the hell am I going to do?_ he thought – and then, a moment later, _what the hell is_ Gavin _going to do?_

“Chewed out by the boss?” Mike's voice floated into the room, and Dan's head snapped up.

The other man was lingering in the doorway, a funny sort of half-amused smile on his face. Dan was in no mood to talk to him.

“I need a smoke,” he growled back, and marched out of the room, ignoring the way Mike raised his eyebrows and his hands defensively and skipped out of the way.  
  


* * *

* * *

   
“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” Michael demanded, as he finally entered the room – the last of them to do so; he'd been out on a job. “Why have we all been called back here in the middle of the day?”

Gavin squirmed uncomfortably where Geoff had pushed him to sit down on one of the chairs in his office, back at their main base.

Some small part of him had still thought maybe he'd get away with all this, that he could convince Ryan and Ray that nothing had been going on, that it had all just been some misunderstanding with a client.

But of course he couldn't, of course they weren't that stupid. As it was, Ryan and Ray _were_ both the sort of people who didn't want to confront him themselves, but the minute Gavin continued to insist that nothing had been going on, Ryan had called Geoff and told him everything and then Geoff had dragged them all in here for a 'group meeting'.

“Explain,” Geoff said then, pointing a finger at him. “Why the hell is Ryan telling me some guy had you tied up under a bridge in the park and you then told him _not_ to kill him?”

“The fuck,” Michael spoke up, sounding equal parts alarmed and angry.

Gavin started to look away, clenching his jaw as he tried desperately to think up some excuse, but Geoff leaned in, forcing him to make eye contact.

“Gavin,” he said, voice gentle but firm. “You've been acting weird as fuck lately. Tell me what's going on.”

Jack, standing behind him, reached out and squeezed his shoulder gently, and Gavin shut his eyes, taking a deep breath.

_Okay. Okay_.

It was becoming very apparent that he _couldn't_ handle this by himself, and Dan had been so angry today that he knew this wasn't just going to go away. And if he didn't say something now Geoff would kill Dan, or try to, and things would just – get messier.

“It was Dan,” he said quietly. It was easier than he'd expected.

There was a moment of confused silence. He saw them all exchange glances. It seemed to click in Michael first.

“ _Your_ Dan?” he demanded. “England-Dan? Dead-soldier-Dan?”

“Yeah,” Gavin replied, shoulders slumping as a great weight seemed to lift off them.

He'd told the others about Dan before, of course. He was such a big part of his childhood, his upbringing, deeply engrained in why he left England. It would have been impossible _not_ to mention him – and besides, he'd _wanted_ to, wanted to share that integral part of himself with his boyfriends. With the people he _loved_.

They knew Dan had been important to him.

They also knew he was meant to be dead.

“Isn't he...” Ray trailed off, confused. “Uh, didn't he, well... cark it? A long time ago?”

“That's what I thought,” Gavin replied tiredly. “But he came back, except he thought _I_ was dead too, so we never got back in touch, never realised, and now...” he bit his lip, because this was the hard part, the bloody kicker. “Now he... may or may not work for the police and be that special consultant that was sent over from England to help Coal?”

There was another moment of silence. After a moment Gavin dragged his eyes up to look around at the others. Equal amounts of horror and shock were showing on all their faces.

It was Michael who spoke first.

“ _What_ ,” was all he said.

Gavin lifted his hands to cover his face, bracing himself for their anger, because he could see it, just how hard this had hit them – this was everything they didn't need right now, trouble for the crew, and-

“Are you _fucking_ serious?” Michael continued. He got loud when he was surprised, Gavin knew, but right now hearing him shout was too much like hearing him _angry_. He dropped his hands and looked up and met Geoff's eyes. The older man's lips were pressed together tightly and Gavin could see him processing this, realising how bad it could be for them.

A light touch on his shoulder had him turning to see Jack staring at him in concern.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jack asked gently.

“Yeah, I'm bloody _peachy_ , my best friend is back from the damn dead and trying to _arrest_ us!” Gavin cried, throwing his hands up, the stress of the day bursting out.

“How long have you known about this?” Michael demanded.

Gavin looked away, guilt slamming back into him. “Couple of days,” he admitted. “At... at the bank, we fought – he pulled my mask off – he saw it was me and I... I got away while he was surprised.”

“And you didn't _tell us_?” Ray asked, aghast. “You said _you_ took your mask off-”

“I was _handling it_ ,” Gavin replied, defensively. “Or I thought I was at least, I... I wasn't sure if it was him. I had to _check_.”

“Gavin,” Michael started, sounding upset now.

“I'm bloody sorry, okay? I had no idea what to _do_ , I didn't know what was going on and it... it was Dan, you know? It was _Dan_ , I-”

“Hey.” Jack grabbed his arm again. Gavin was breathing too fast now, getting too worked up. “Hey, Gav, it's fine-”

“ _It's not fine_ ,” Gavin snapped, pulling his arm away. His eyes darted to Ryan, who'd been very quiet – the other man was leaning against the doorway, arms folded. Face unreadable. His eyes met Gavin's and he stepped forward then.

“Today,” Ryan began, and Gavin sighed, running his hands through his hair in agitation.

“He wanted to talk,” he said quietly. “He was as confused as I was about why I was here. Why I was in the crew. He wanted to know if I... if I was here willingly.”

Ray looked away, and Gavin scoffed a little, giving a wry smile.

“Yeah, he didn't exactly like the answer to that. And he found out somehow about the six of us being together.”

Ray looked up again and gave a humourless laugh. “I'm guessing that didn't go down very well.”

Gavin shook his head, biting his lip, feeling that upset overtake him again.

He'd seen Dan angry plenty of times before in their youth, but never directed at _him_ , not like it had been today. Seeing how disappointed his friend had been in him, how furious – it had him unsettled. He had Dan back but Dan was so _different_ now, his carefree youthfulness gone. He'd looked like he hadn't smiled or laughed in a very long time, and for all that he'd told Gavin that he'd made something of himself – for all that he'd spent so long doing the right thing, helping people – he hadn't seemed _happy_ , at _all_ , and that made Gavin abruptly very sad.

Suddenly he was being pulled into a hug by Jack, the other's arms closing tight around him, his face buried in Jack's chest. He hugged him back immediately and closed his eyes, trying to swallow down the memory of Dan's rough touch on his face. God, he'd wanted to embrace him so badly then, to just feel that he was solid and alive again. Just for one brief moment have him back _properly_.

Jack held him for a long, quiet moment, and it helped, it steadied him, drawing comfort from the other's strong arms and familiar touch. Someone else's hand ran through his hair; he thought it might be Ray's.

“I'm sorry,” Gavin said again, voice muffled into Jack's shirt. He pulled back, finally, and turned towards the others. “I should have told you sooner.”

He looked at Geoff again and the other man gave a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. He, like Ryan, had been oddly quiet, and Gavin couldn't tell what he was thinking.

“He can identify you to Coal,” Geoff pointed out finally.

Gavin bit his lip again. He looked down at his hands, twisting in his lap, and rubbed at the marks around his wrists where the handcuffs had dug in.

“I don't know if he will,” he replied, hesitantly.

“It doesn't matter if he does,” Ryan spoke up. “There's no record of Gavin over here in America. They all think he's dead. Coal benefits nothing from learning his identity, except for potentially knowing what he looks like, and you wear the mask enough that that won't matter too much.”

“We don't know that,” Michael cut in. “It's still potentially dangerous. This is great, just fucking _great_ -”

Gavin glanced over at him; Michael looked annoyed and Gavin suspected it was more to do with him not telling them about Dan than the actual situation itself. Ryan had caught on too and came up behind Michael, putting a hand down on his shoulder reassuringly.

“Guys,” Ray piped up.”I know it seems bad, this consultant guy being someone who knows about one of us. But... it's _Dan_. Right?” He looked at Gavin intently. “It's your best fucking friend. Some part of you has to be glad he's back and I'm sure he kinda feels the same way? I mean, I don't know, but you guys were close, right? _Really_ close?”

Gavin nodded again. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “We were.”

They all sighed tiredly; Ryan rubbed Michael's arm and eventually a little of the rigidness faded from his shoulders.

Gavin felt oddly relieved that they all knew now. He knew that, realistically, he had never really expected them to blow up at him or hate him, but having the reveal over and done with was another stress taken off his shoulders.

Even if they weren't _angry_ with him, though, he could see how tense they all still were. And it hit him again that the easiest way to get them out of all this was just to get rid of Dan.

“Anyway,” he said quickly. “I'll handle it, I... I'll talk to him, or something. This isn't a problem, I'll sort it out-”

“It is absolutely a fucking problem,” Michael snapped; when Gavin startled a little his face softened. He shrugged Ryan off and stepped forward to lean in and grab Gavin's shoulders, something fierce and intent in his eyes.

“And you don't have to deal with it on your own,” he said. “We'll sort it out together. Okay?”

“By 'sort it out',” Gavin began nervously. “Do you mean-"

“I mean we'll _sort it out_. We'll talk to him or work something out – we'll fix it,” Michael assured him.

The others were nodding now too, and Jack stepped around and lifted Gavin's chin gently, leaning in to peck his lips.

“Of course we will,” he said, and smiled, and Gavin felt so God-awfully relieved that he could have broken down then and there because _why did I ever doubt them_ , here they were reassuring _him_ over this great big problem that he'd only made worse by not telling them about.

Ryan, lovely Ryan, was nodding now too.

“This is what you've been so stressed out about,” he said, and Gavin nodded,

Ryan stepped forward, leaning in to kiss him again too, and Gavin didn't know what to say; he'd been so terrified earlier that Ryan would just shoot Dan in the head and be done with it but of course he hadn't, of course he'd listened when Gavin told him not to. For all his fearsome reputation he was perhaps the gentlest of them all when they were together, save for maybe Jack.

Ray had come up now too, hanging off Michael's shoulder and smiling at him reassuringly; it left only Geoff, standing still behind his desk, but when Gavin looked up at him worriedly he smiled as well.

“We'll think of something,” he said, and Gavin slumped over into Ryan's arms, the relief nearly crushing him suddenly.

“He's alive,” he choked out, finally letting his upset over the whole matter come out in front of them. Today had been terrible and he had no idea what Dan thought of him now, but the fact remained that Gavin had _seen_ him, in the flesh. Not a ghost, not a hallucination. _Dan_. “He's _alive_.”

Ryan pulled him close and Gavin pressed his face in against the familiar material of his leather jacket; his arms around him, his hand stroking soothingly down his spine.

“It's okay,” he heard Jack say behind him, soft and reassuring; Michael and Ray were murmuring quietly now too though Gavin was too distracted to make out the words. When he did finally turn his head, it was to see that Geoff had moved in to join him as well, one of his arms around Michael's waist, the other hand settled on Ryan's shoulder.

It probably looked terribly silly, six grown men in some sort of group huddle in Geoff's office in the middle of the afternoon, but it was also so very _them_ , the six of them so close and sometimes so cheesy and fuck what anyone else thought about them being _in love_ , and after all Dan's reproofs and accusations Gavin needed that, that reminder that no matter what happened it was the six of them, here now, and they'd sort it out together.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Dan was exhausted by the time he finally got out of the precinct. Not just physically drained, but mentally and emotionally too.

He'd spent the last hour or so lying to the sketch artist's face.

It had been a lot harder than he'd expected. He was not a particularly crafty person and it had been hard to balance coming up with a description of someone that wouldn't help them to track down Gavin, but that also wasn't so far off base that if the truth ever did come out, it would be obvious that Dan _had_ lied.

Whatever it was the artist ended up with, it certainly wouldn't be much help to Coal any time soon, and now – as Dan tiredly left the building to head back to his apartment – his own dishonesty was making him feel a little sick, guilt weighing down at the pit of his stomach.

_Why are you still protecting him?_

Gavin had as good as admitted that he wanted to be here, that he wasn't going to change his mind. But somehow Dan still couldn't bring himself to do anything against him. Still felt like somehow, surely, he could get through to him, could at least still find out _why_ he'd come here.

They needed to meet again, he realised dimly. They needed to meet and not spend the entire time just getting their anger out of the way. _His_ anger, he reflected, ruefully; he had been the one doing most of the shouting.

His apartment room seemed even more dark, cold and lonely than before. As he slumped down onto the couch, not even bothering to take his shoes off, he ran his hands over his face again, wincing a little as he accidentally pressed against the bruises where Vagabond had hit him.

In the clips and photos he'd seen of the Fake AH Crew, one thing stood out oddly; they always seemed _happy_ , revelling in what they were doing. The knowledge that they were all in a relationship, too, leant it new meaning.

And Gavin was part of that.

_At least one of us is fucking happy_ , Dan thought bitterly, because sitting here by himself in the dark he couldn't help but think about how despite being thousands of miles away in a foreign country, it wasn't all that different from the flat in England he called home. And he might have been alive these last few years and Gavin might have too, but one thing was for sure; Dan had been much more alone.  
 

* * *

  
Agent Coal seemed to be in a much better mood when Dan got back into work the next day.

Dan himself was not feeling so hot. His sleep had been disturbed, plagued by bad dreams that he couldn't remember when he woke up, and he was vaguely hungover from the amount he'd drunk before going to bed, trying to keep Gavin off his mind.

He still had no plan, no idea what he was doing, but he couldn't miss another day of work, so in he went.

“Morning Gruchy,” Coal greeted, materialising at the door of his office almost as soon as he came in. “Do you know what you're working on today?”

“Not really,” Dan replied, feeling a bit out of place. Before he'd realised who Gavin was, he'd had heaps of ideas about how he could help the FBI track the Fake AH Crew down. But now, now he had that odd hesitance to make any moves against them, worried about how it might affect Gavin, so he had no idea what he was doing.

“If you haven't got anything you're working on, I need you to help out with something,” Coal said, and Dan nodded, getting up to follow him into the boardroom.

Mike was already standing in there. He nodded and smiled at Dan as he came in, and Dan forced a small smile back.

“We're still chasing up Jenzen and some other things off that list you got,” Coal explained. “But that sort of stuff's been getting us nowhere for months. Now that you're here maybe you can help look into some old leads – you might see something we missed.”

“Sure,” Dan replied, and was glad that his voice came out sounding reasonably casual.

Coal gave a small, tight smile as he tossed a case file open onto the table.

“These two run a pretty low-profile smuggling ring, but they had some contact with the Fake AH Crew a couple years back. We lost them for a while but they've popped up again recently; we intercepted a couple of their deals. They used to be pretty low key – cigarettes mostly, trying to evade tax laws – but it looks like they've upgraded to some harder drugs. Doesn't seem like they're with Ramsey at the moment, but we might as well try catch them while their heads are above water. They might know something – some names at least.”

Dan looked down at the case file and nearly had a heart attack. Huang and Carver's faces stared back up at him, caught unattractively in old mugshot images.

“You two go check them out,” Coal continued, obliviously. “We have some locations of what we think are their warehouses.”

_Oh God, oh God_ , thought Dan, growing more alarmed by the second.

He hadn't thought his lies would come back to bite him in the ass so soon. The second he got close to these two they'd recognise him and realise he'd been lying – and then Mike and the others would realise he'd been asking questions behind their back – this was getting messier by the minute.

_Divert,_ he thought, _divert, divert-_

“Actually I was looking through some of the rest of these old case files the other day,” he replied, “And the connection these two have to Ramsey is pretty damn tenuous. There was another guy who might be a better lead. Owner of some tech company who lives here but has branches in England – think his name is Percival? We ran ties to King over in London.”

Coal was already shaking his head. “No, don't look into him.”

“Why not?” Dan asked.

“I know what you're talking about, but it won't get us anywhere. Don't bother Percival over nothing.” There was a funny note in Coal's voice, something too firm about it, like he didn't want Dan poking around there, and Dan frowned.

Mr Percival was a powerful man, he knew, and one of the richest in Achievement City. He remembered what Gavin had said – _all the police here are corrupt anyway_. Was it possible Percival had paid them off not to get him involved in all this? Surely _Coal_ wouldn't stoop to bribery though, not when he wanted to catch Geoff so badly?

It didn't matter, anyway, he couldn't argue further without looking suspicious.

“This other guy, then,” he said, thinking back to all the files he'd looked through. “Huge, wealthy business guy, owns half the city – I think people here call him the Corpirate? He's a huge crook anyway, there's no way he won't know _something_ about Ramsey, and if he is all that powerful he probably has ties with the Fake AH Crew since they're so big as well-”

“ _No_ ,” Coal snapped immediately, and scowled, starting to look proper annoyed now. “Look, Gruchy, I've been working on this case a hell of a lot longer than you have. You've caused enough trouble letting the fucking frontman get away from you once already. Just do what I say now, won't you?”

Dan blinked, startled by his sudden vehemence considering he'd been in such a good mood (at least considering what seemed to be his usual moods) earlier. But he nodded, fearful of getting himself deeper into this mess if he continued to argue.

“Okay,” he replied, and Coal thrust the case file at him before turning away.

Mike let out a sigh. “Thar she blows,” he sing-songed the minute Coal had left the room and was out of earshot.

“Seems funny to not investigate the Corpirate,” Dan grumbled, looking down at the file and frowning at the pictures of Huang and Carver. “From what I could see he seemed really damn big. Surely all the big people in town would know each other?”

“Yeah,” was all Mike said, and Dan glanced over at him, again wondering if this was all some conspiracy, if the Corpirate had paid Coal off somehow.

Mike sighed again, and grabbed up his jacket, heading for the door. “Better get out of here before he gets mad at us for loitering.”

He was not particularly reverent towards his boss, Dan couldn't help thinking, even as he followed him out and into one of the cars. He was looking through the case file for the location he thought Huang and Carver were least likely to be at when Mike spoke up.

“Hey – you're right, you know, that this is probably not gonna get us anywhere.”

Dan looked up at him. Mike was smiling amiably but there was something rather fake looking about it. And the other man had been friendly enough to Dan since he got here – he'd even texted him a couple of times making sure he was settling in okay, wasn't getting lost, that sort of thing – but Dan remembered suddenly the way Gavin had slipped into some sort of persona when he was trying to calm Dan down. An artificial pleasantness that he probably used for his job as Geoff's frontman, changing himself to suit whatever his client wanted or needed to get them to cooperate with him.

If anything he was getting the vibe of Mike doing something similar now, but he couldn't for the life of him think why.

“Yeah,” was all he replied, cautiously. “I was looking at these guys the other day and even if they worked with the Fake AH Crew before, I don't think they do any more."

“Exactly,” Mike said, a little too eagerly. “So how about we check someone else out instead?”

“Like what?”

“There's a different group of dealers that the DEA were trying to break up recently. They're not allied with Ramsey but he sent Vagabond to take one of them out a little while back. I doubt the Fake AH Crew's allies are going to spill anything on them. But their enemies might. I've got a couple of locations – we can have a drive around and see if they're still about, in any case.”

It was a rather aimless plan, if Dan was honest; the chances of these drug runners just hanging about waiting for them to arrive was very slim.

He was a little surprised by Mike wanting to so directly disobey Coal's orders, too, especially with how tetchy the man could get. If anything it was coming across like Mike, too, didn't want to get too close to Huang and Carver – like he had something to hide there as well.

But it was a vastly better alternative to Dan having to go and meet the two of them and having it come out that he wasn't actually some random mercenary looking for work over here. He nodded, relieved that for now, at least, he was still in the clear, and Mike gave another smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as he put the car in gear and started to drive off.  
  


* * *

* * *

  
Gavin woke up slowly, gently, to the soothing feeling of someone stroking a hand through his hair. He was very warm, he realised, tucked in under the duvet, a comfortable, snug heat against the cold of a winter morning in Achievement City.

He'd had a pretty much permanent headache the last few days, from a combination of stress and sleep deprivation, and it was almost disorienting to wake up and find that _gone_. He felt well-rested for the first time in what felt like days.

“Morning, sleeping big-nose,” a familiar voice said, and Gavin sat up on his elbows and turned to see Michael smiling fondly at him, one hand still nestled in his hair.

There was bright sunlight streaming in through the windows, and no sign of any of the others. Gavin frowned.

“What time is it?” he asked groggily, and then reached out to grab his phone and check for himself. He sat bolt upright, awake instantly as the shock-alarm of realising you'd slept too late ripped through him.

“Bloody hell, Michael, it's past ten! Why didn't my-”

“We turned your alarm off,” Michael cut in, grinning a bit. “You seemed like you could use the sleep.”

“I'm meant to be meeting with Cwierz today!” He flung the covers back, moving to scramble out of the bed, but Michael's arm hooked around his waist and hauled him back.

“You're fine, dude, it's not for a few hours,” he said. “Just chill for a minute, okay?”

Gavin attempted to wriggle free but Michael held tight until finally he gave up, letting himself relax back into the bed and his boyfriend's side, the alarm slowly fading away.

Michael leaned in and kissed the side of his head, softly.

“You feeling better this morning?” he asked quietly.

Gavin nodded. And he was, even as he began to remember all that had happened yesterday.

He hated keeping secrets from the others, and to have told them what was going on – to know they were at his back and he wasn't dealing with this alone – was a massive weight off his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he began, but started to frown again as he thought about Dan. Michael noticed immediately.

“But?” he prompted. “What's on your mind?”

Gavin bit his lip.

“But I keep thinking about what Dan's doing right now,” he replied. “Yesterday after he left... he has to be back at work by now. Will he have told Coal already, has he... has he given up on me to the point where he just wants to get rid of us now?”

“You think he would?” Michael asked carefully.

Gavin shrugged miserably.

“We didn't exactly part on good terms,” he pointed out. “I don't know what he's thinking.”

That was the problem, really. Once he'd known Dan as well as he knew himself. But that was another person, in another time. A lot could change in five years. A lot _had_ changed, and not just in him. Being unable to tell what Dan thought of him was daunting, and only served to make him feel like as much as Dan was now alive, he still didn't have his friend _back_.

Michael was silent, seeming to want Gavin to keep thinking it through on his own for a bit, though his hand did stay on Gavin's back, rubbing soothing circles through the fabric of his shirt.

“He was just... confused,” Gavin said finally. “And disappointed, and really damn angry.” He huffed out a humourless laugh. “I can see why. I didn't have any answers for him about _why_ I'm involved in all this. Guess he thinks I'm just a terrible person now.”

“Gavin...” There was a note of almost warning in Michael's voice. “We're not good people.”

“I know,” Gavin replied, looking away. “And facing up to that... it's a messy game. But it's normally something we just work through on our own. I'm not trying to justify everything we do – we can't. We are what we are. But how do you explain that to someone who...”

He trailed off, voice choking up in his throat as he remembered it, every single time he and Dan had sat up late into the night talking, _dreaming_ , of everything they'd do when they “grew up”. As children their stupid ambitions of becoming superheroes, of saving the world. Talk of joining the army, the police, the fire department when they hit secondary school and brandished a little more realism. And then, as adulthood loomed ahead of them, more serious discussions. Switching focus towards the systems that perpetuated the crime both in their terrible town and in the bigger cities; corruption and cover ups.

It was almost laughable to think back on that now. He'd been studying bloody media and criminology – reading up on all the sorts of things he was involved in now.

Michael was watching him and Gavin looked up and gave a wry smile. Despite everything he still couldn't, _wouldn't,_ feel bad about his relationship with the others. It was one thing to feel guilty about the things he himself had done, but he wasn't about to start pointing fingers at the others.

They might be bad but they weren't _evil;_ there was a difference. Take Michael, Michael who was his boi, with his raging temper that was 99% just on the surface; he had one of the biggest hearts Gavin had ever seen, he'd seen him direct his outrage at some of the displays of _true_ cruelty and brutality that they'd witnessed around Achievement City.

Plus he'd seen Michael around him, around Ray and all the other boys, even the outer circle of the crew and some of their clients – how could someone capable of so much love ever be truly bad?

He sighed, picking at a loose thread on the duvet.

“As kids,” he said quietly, “I've told you some of this before, I think, but our parents... they didn't care all that much. And the people in our town were shit. It's a wonder the two of us didn't get caught up in it all; probably because of Dan's grandpa, he was solid. God knows our teachers didn't give a damn, or anyone else around us. We had this... thing, we used to say. Make it better. It was stupid, but we – we really thought we wouldn't just get out of there but we'd come back and _fix_ it, too, that we'd be some sort of heroes, that we'd make sure whatever we ended up doing, it would be something that really _helped_ , you know? Cause God knows we could have done with someone cleaning up _our_ town.”

Michael bit his lip; they didn't talk much about what actually started them off into their lives of crime. For the most part they were all pretty shameless about knowing that they spent the entirety of their lives breaking the law. And Gavin especially had always tried to just – ignore it, that part of his past which cast what he was doing now in such a shameful light.

But he couldn't ignore it now. He had run away from everything in England but he couldn't run away from this.

“Anyway,” he said then. “All we had was each other and _that._ And I guess...” he trailed off, taking a deep breath, upset rising up again at the thought of how _sad_ Dan had been under his anger. “I guess when he lost me he _only_ had that.”

“You lost him too,” Michael said softly.

“Yeah,” Gavin murmured. “And I let myself let go of it, that idea that being some sort of – of _hero_. Guess Dan was always the strong one. It's not an excuse, is all I'm saying.”

Michael grabbed his shoulders and turned him to face him, something very earnest in the way he was looking at him.

“You can't play the guilt game, Gavin. That doesn't end well for any of us. You were a kid. It was a dream, that's all. A childish dream.”

“It was more than that,” Gavin replied. “It was a promise.”

“Promises get broken here.” The words were harsh but Michael's voice was very gentle. “Those sort, anyway. Who you were five years ago is not who you are now. Dan's clinging to something that's dead.”

“I know,” Gavin said, biting his lip. “That's why it would be easier if we _were_ still dead, if we thought the other was gone-”

A noise at the door had him looking up; Geoff had appeared and was now lingering in the doorway, watching them. He gave a small smile when they noticed him, but didn't interrupt.

“Either way,” Michael spoke up, “You're here now. You're with us. And you're not leaving us,” he added, and Gavin shook his head frantically because _no, of course not_ , the thought had never even crossed his mind to give up his boys, give up the crew. “So Dan's the one who's gonna have to make a decision here, not you.”

“I know,” Gavin repeated, and sighed. “But I... I _hurt_ him, I know that much. By doing this. And that's... hard, you know? He was all I _had_ , for so long, we were like brothers. I loved him. I still love him,” he added, voice breaking a little, because it was true, terribly true; having Dan back now was bringing back how much he'd missed him in the years after he was gone, how he had slowly, painfully built himself back up and found the others.

Dan might hate him now, but _he_ could never hate Dan. And he knew that was dangerous, knew that made him – and the crew – vulnerable, but he couldn't help it.

Michael looked so upset on his behalf that Gavin couldn't help but laugh a bit hysterically; his boyfriend looked almost on the verge of tears if only because Gavin had never been one for crying himself.

“It's fine, Michael,” he started to say, but Michael shook his head.

“It's not fine. It just – sucks, so fucking much, for him to be back like this. But Gav,” he added, fiercely, “You're not alone _now_ , you know that. You have us.”

That made Gavin give a genuine smile at least. Because it had helped, telling Michael more about Dan, having him there to listen and look at Gavin now with red-rimmed eyes and so determined to let him know just how much they _did_ love him. They had always been a team, the six of them. He had them to hold him up now, no matter what happened with Dan.

He reached out and tugged Michael into a kiss, one hand coming up to tangle in the other's curls, holding him close against him. Michael's hands settled on his waist, a steady reassuring grip. When they finally pulled apart Michael leaned in, pressing his face against Gavin's shoulder for a moment; it was upsetting for everyone, Gavin knew, his pulling away the last few days, and he stroke a hand through Michael's hair and down his back.

He looked up again at Geoff, who was grinning fondly as he watched the two of them. The older man stepped into the room then, coming over to the bed where he leaned in to plant his own kiss on Gavin's forehead.

“Michael's right,” he said. Michael sat up a bit, keeping one arm around Gavin's shoulders, tugging him in close against his side.

“The whole crew's behind you on this,” Geoff continued. “Whatever happens we'll deal with it together.” He paused, then pulled a face. “God, that sounds sappy as shit.”

Gavin couldn't help but laugh, though it died down slightly after a moment; having the others behind him was nice, but it wasn't a _solution_.

“But what _are_ we going to do?” he asked, needing the reassurance that Geoff had at least _some_ sort of plan.

“You? Nothing,” Geoff replied. “The heist is still going ahead so I need you on Cwierz today.”

“But what about Dan?”

“Ryan's taking care of Dan,” Geoff said, and Gavin's blood ran cold, all traces of amusement – of relief – dissolving immediately. He sat up, shrugging Michael's arm off from around his shoulders.

“What the hell do you mean, _taking care_ of him?” he demanded.

“Hey – relax,” Michael began, and tried to grab his arm again; Gavin shook him off impatiently. “Jesus, we're not _killing_ him – we wouldn't do that, Gav, you know that.”

Gavin ignored him, his eyes fixed on Geoff.

“Where's Ryan now?” he demanded.

Geoff held his gaze steadily. He wasn't smiling now either; had that stern, calm look fixed on his face that Gavin had seen a hundred times before when he was negotiating with their enemies, or problem clients.

“Ryan's taken some men out to track him down,” he replied. “We're going to intercept him, capture him, and bring him back to the base to... have a talk.”

“ _What_?” Gavin practically screeched, his mind nearly going into overdrive as he struggled to fathom what a _terrible_ fuckingidea that was. “You can't-”

“I've already arranged it,” Geoff cut in, cool at first but steadily losing patience. “They're looking for him now-”

“We have no idea what Dan is _thinking_! You come at him out of the blue with the Vagabond and he might-”

Gavin broke off, unable to even think about it. Dan hurting Ryan. Ryan hurting _Dan_. Something going terribly, terribly wrong because Dan was _his_ friend, they had history at least, but to Dan Ryan was just a threat, a wanted criminal, and they had no idea how he'd react to him turning up and trying to _kidnap_ him – someone was bound to get hurt.

“Gav,” Michael tried again; but Gavin pushed him away and climbed out of the bed, turning towards the dresser. Out of the covers it was briskly cold, the morning air hitting his skin with a chill.

“I have to go with him,” he said frantically. “If I'm there Dan might-”

“You're not going anywhere.” Geoff's hand closed tight around his arm; Gavin turned and looked up at him, confused.

“Why not?” he shot back. “He's _my_ friend, he knows _me_ , I have the best shot at getting through to him.” An anger hit him suddenly; “I can't believe you didn't tell me before you went through with this – just waited until I was sleeping to send Ryan off behind my back-”

“The same way you tried to deal with this whole Dan business behind _our_ backs?” Geoff snapped, and Gavin startled in surprise at just how _angry_ he sounded.

His own annoyance rose up in turn.

“That was _different_ , I was – I wasn't sure, I thought I could sort it out.”

“Yeah, well you've done more than enough to _sort this out_ already. Let Ryan and I deal with it now-”

“I'm not gonna let you just prance off and _kidnap_ Dan without me,” Gavin said, and tried to pull his arm from Geoff's grasp only to yelp in surprise when Geoff pushed him back onto the bed, stepping up over him to glare.

“You will do what I _fucking_ tell you,” Geoff snapped – no jokes now, his voice dead-serious and cold. Gavin stared up at him in shock before he started to glare as well.

“I get it, Gavin, this is hard for you,” Geoff continued then. “I can't even imagine what it's like, Dan coming back like this. It's a crap position to be in but it's what we've got now, okay? Your little tete-a-tete with him yesterday only made things worse. We need to talk to him _here_ , on _our_ terms, and be able to hold him if something goes wrong, if he won't cooperate-”

“ _Cooperate_ ,” Gavin cried, aghast. He started to get up again but Geoff pointed at him warningly, and he fell still.

“That's right, Gav. Cooperate, because like it or not Dan is not your _friend_ here, not now, he's something volatile – he's a risk we can't afford to have running around. He's a danger to us, to this crew-”

Gavin opened his mouth to argue, he wasn't sure what, only knew he was suddenly terrified for Dan because Geoff was talking like – like he was their _enemy_ , and while he knew that Geoff would do everything possible to keep Dan alive and safe if only because it would hurt Gavin to lose him again, if it came down to it-

If it came down to Dan or the crew, or the _six_ of them-

He knew what Geoff would pick.

He scowled up at Geoff but the other man raised a hand to silence him, and Gavin's mouth snapped shut, surprised – it was so rarely that Geoff _ordered_ him to do things rather than asked him, especially here in the apartment, that he found himself obeying automatically.

“So yes,” Geoff continued. His voice was calm but that undercurrent of anger was still there, somehow more unsettling than if he had been shouting. “It's hard. And I get why you kept it secret. But that doesn't change the fact that you put us _all_ in danger by hiding it from us.”

Gavin stared up at him, stricken – that had never been his _intention–_

“I-”

“You jeopardised us, Gav – what if Dan _had_ reported you to Coal right away? What if he'd turned you in or taken you away when he caught you under the bridge? And don't tell me he wouldn't have,” he added, sounding more annoyed now when Gavin opened his mouth to argue again. “We don't know. _You_ didn't know. You might not have meant to, but you risked all of our fucking lives by not just _telling me_ about this right away! So no, you're not going along with Ryan, because Idon't trust your judgement on this. Understand?”

The words hurt, undercut with some sort of guilt; Gavin _had_ felt bad at the time, knew he should've told Geoff. But getting a scolding about it had some resentment simmering up in him, if only because he'd been on the verge of a breakdown all week.

And he still didn't like this, that Geoff had gone off and arranged to just capture Dan without telling him. He glared, but Geoff just turned away and crossed over to the dresser. He grabbed a tie, a shirt, and tossed them at Gavin.

“Now get your ass up, go shave, and get over to Cwierz to do what you're supposed to. Leave Ryan to what he's doing.”

“What if I don't,” Gavin challenged, annoyance bubbling up.

Geoff leaned in close, properly angry now, and at this small distance Gavin could seehow tired he was; the dark wells under his eyes, the bloodshot redness of them. He must have been up all night trying to work out how bad this was, how they could resolve it.

“I'm not asking you as your boyfriend, Gavin,” he said coldly. “I'm ordering you as your boss.”

Gavin stared back at him resentfully, but his fingers clutched at the shirt in his lap and he could already feel himself dropping back into subservience.

There was a line, obviously, between Geoff who they loved, who loved _them_ , and Ramsey, leader of the Fake AH Crew. And outside of crew business Geoff would never dream of ordering him around; they were equals and Geoff had zero authority over him. And generally they _never_ brought that work dynamic back here, to their home.

But this – _Dan_ – had, it seemed, crossed the line from being a personal issue to a business issue as soon as Dan recognised what Gavin was doing. And _Geoff_ might be sympathetic to Gavin's plight, might comfort him with soft kisses and pretty words.

But Ramsey – Ramsey had to do what was best for the crew, what would keep them all out of trouble. And it seemed that involved giving Gavin a severe telling off and then benching him like some unruly child while he sent Ryan off to clean up the mess, even if he'd had the presence of mind to wait until the next day when Gavin wasn't so upset.

Gavin understood the necessity of it – understood, even, why Geoff wouldn't want him along on this one, that he'd only gotten angry because Gavin probably was letting his feelings get in the way of his judgement a bit – but that didn't make him any less annoyed. Dan was _his_ and the thought of not being there to see what was going on, to step in if something went wrong, was already starting to make him stress out again.

Petulant under reproach, he glowered at Geoff even as he obeyed, climbing out of the bed and stripping his shirt off with angry jerks of movements. Geoff's eyes narrowed at his attitude and he reached out and gripped his shoulder, not roughly but firm enough to be a warning.

“And before you even think about sneaking off to join Ryan instead of going to the museum,” he began, and Gavin froze a bit guiltily – the idea had already been starting to form – “Michael's going with you.”

There was an awkward pause before Gavin turned to direct his glare at Michael instead, realising he'd been in on this the whole time.

“Sorry boi,” Michael offered, but he looked _nervous_ , unsettled by this clash of his two boyfriends here, in their bedroom. It was definitely new and unpleasant, work business causing such a rift between them – especially as Geoff, softening now with the conversation over with, leaned in to try and kiss Gavin and he, still annoyed, turned his face away. Geoff looked upset but didn't say anything as he turned and left the room.

A horrid feeling welled in Gavin's chest below the anger. It seemed Dan was causing more problems for them than just on the police front; he couldn't remember the last time an issue had crossed over between what happened at work and what happened between the six of them. If any one of them messed up, or made a bad call, or got a telling off at work, it never leaked over to their home life, or they sorted it out immediately if it did.

It had taken them a while to get that balance right. Having six people in one relationship had naturally taken some adjusting, and there had been slip ups and arguments in the early days. But they had _done it_ , had managed to make it all work out.

Until now, it seemed, and the safety and reassurance he'd felt previously started to crumble because this relationship was _everything_ , had been the one stable thing he _had_ the last few days, and now that was in danger too.

He bit his lip, looking down as he fumbled to button up his shirt.

Michael stepped towards him uncertainly.

“Gav-”

“I need to get dressed. We're running late.” His voice came out artificially tight and controlled and he saw Michael grimace before nodding, seeming to decide to leave well enough alone.

“Okay,” he replied, and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

As soon as he was gone Gavin let his hands fall from the buttons, bracing himself against the wall and breathing deeply.

_Where's Dan now?_

Would he be back at the FBI precinct? Talking to Coal? Or was he out looking for Gavin right now?

It didn't matter. Wherever he was, Ryan would find him – he was good at that – and then...

He bit his lip. He trusted Ryan to _try_ , to bring Dan back safe and unharmed. To take care of himself and not let Dan hurt him either.

He _trusted_ him. _Okay._ That settled him at least a little.

He wanted Jack suddenly, his kindness and comfort. But Jack was out doing his job, just like the others were, and Gavin straightened up, fixing his shirt collar and turning to get his tie.

_The sooner you get this done with, the sooner you can go back to the base and see what's happening with Dan_ , he thought. That settled him at least a bit – Geoff could well have filled his day up with assignments and kept him away and busy the entire time. But he hadn't, and this was just one thing Gavin had to do, and necessary to the heist besides.

Nodding to himself, he reached out to grab his mask from a nearby drawer, tossing it onto the bed behind him. Then turned back towards the mirror, and continued to get ready.  
  


* * *

* * *

  
Dan and Mike had spent the last few hours literally just driving around aimlessly. They'd checked out a few shifty looking neighbourhoods and warehouses, but there had been nothing there, and they hadn't expected to find much anyway. Having eventually realised that Dan was going to be completely compliant in this great feat of slacking off, Mike seemed to take it upon himself to take the scenic route to wherever they had to go. And then, at length, took Dan through a McDonalds drive-through as well.

Even if he was glad they were avoiding Huang and Carver, it was such a blatant display of unproductiveness that Dan began to get twitchy.

Part of him was horrified at himself, because he took his job very seriously, whether it was here or in England. And a few days ago he would have been insisting they buckled down and actually did what they were supposed to be doing instead of just wasting time.

He was already slipping up, losing focus. Doing what he knew was the wrong thing, and it was very unsettling.

He glanced over at Mike, who was happily shovelling chips into his mouth as he drove them to God knew where, certainly not anywhere they were _supposed_ to be going. He wondered whether Mike was always like this – distracted, lazy – or if this was some sort of one-off thing, if he just didn't want to chase down the smugglers.

Surely this couldn't be his usual attitude. Coal was a hard-ass and would have fired him long ago.

Minding his own business was the best way to keep Mike from asking _him_ questions, though – and again he felt a faint sort of disgust at himself in participating in this awful behaviour.

He cleared his throat finally, figuring he ought to do something at least halfway useful with his day.

“Tell me more about Coal and the Fake AH Crew,” he said. “He seems to really hate them.”

“Well yeah. Vagabond shot him,” Mike replied. “They've tried to kill him so many times. If he ever gets a hold of one of them again he won't let them get away.”

“How come he lost Jones then?” Dan asked. It still seemed so strange to him, that Coal wouldn't immediately take him back to the precinct as soon as he got hold of him. “That was before they shot him so he had no reason to hang out revenge-beating him up instead of getting him somewhere secure right away. Why would he take the chance?”

“I dunno,” was Mike's incredibly helpful response. “I wasn't there. But don't ask him yourself,” he added. “He gets annoyed when people pry in his personal business.”

“Great,” Dan said, and sighed, leaning his head against the window as he watched the unfamiliar city streets speed by.

Mike glanced over at him. “You must be out for blood too. Frontman stabbed you. Vagabond tried to kill you, I presume..”

Dan reached up and touched his sore jaw.

“Yeah,” he replied, a bit dully. And then, as his earlier thoughts returned to him, “If you lot are really so desperate to catch these guys, how come you have so many unfollowed leads – like Percival and the Corpirate? I was here two seconds and even I can see that you should be more thoroughly investigating shit like that.”

Mike barked out a startled laugh. “Now that is also the sort of thing you shouldn't say to Coal.”

“Why not?”

“I dunno. But trust me, he wants Ramsey so badly that I doubt he hasn't looked into them on his own already. There's a lot he doesn't tell the rest of us.”

Mike said it very casually, but the very statement was ringing warning bells for Dan, because _what the fuck –_ Coal's superiors and coworkers were really okay with him just mucking about, keeping information to himself and holding them back from pursuing leads? And this wasn't just something that had been going on for days and weeks, but _years_ as they failed over and over again at catching Ramsey and his men?

It just didn't make _sense._ He didn't doubt that Coal _wanted_ to catch Ramsey – he could see it in the other man's violent ferocity towards the case, how he'd been glad to have Dan over here to help, how even now he was sending Mike and Dan off to investigate Huang and Carver – people Dan knew for sure _were_ solid leads – so why the rest of the secrecy?

Nothing was adding up and it wasn't helping him feel any more settled about this whole business.

Before he could think on it more, however, Mike pulled up in an abandoned factory complex. Dan had barely realised they'd pulled out of the residential and commercial city areas into the more industrial outskirts.

“Ah, now we might find something _here_ ,” Mike said, unbuckling his seat belt. Again with that fake enthusiasm that was really starting to make Dan think he was hiding something. The place looked totally abandoned and he was pretty sure they weren't going to find a single thing.

He shrugged, though, getting out of the car and shivering a bit. It was a bright day, but very cold even in the sunlight.

They ended up splitting up, Mike wandering off – Dan was pretty sure he was going to piss behind the building; he'd been complaining of needing to go for the last half hour or so – and he himself made a half-hearted attempt at looking for any lurking drug dealers only to find, surprise surprise, absolutely nothing.

He ended up in a dirty empty courtyard, lighting a cigarette as he leaned back against the wall and sighed.

This whole city was giving him the creeps. Everyone here was weird, and even the friendly ones seemed to be hiding something, and there wasn't a single place he'd seen that seemed genuinely _good_.

_Gavin's been living here for years_ , he realised, and shuddered a little at the thought, watching the smoke he puffed out linger then dispel in the cold air before him.

He had avoided getting in trouble today, but how long could he hold out for before he had to do _something_ , make _some_ sort of choice about what he was going to do? Unless he quit his job he'd have to continue investigating the Fake AH Crew. And he'd have to put effort in or get called out by Coal.

And eventually he'd encounter Gavin again.

He knew, deep in his gut, what he _should_ do – cut all ties, leave Gavin to what he had chosen. That was the right thing, a noble thing. Let Gavin become a martyr for Dan's cause; the friend he'd lost to the destruction of crime and corruption, an added incentive for him to wipe out those systems.

_But it's_ Gavin.

The sound of a car pulling up made him jump, the noise too loud in the otherwise silent area. He whipped around to see a black van pulling into the courtyard, blocking the way he'd come in – on his guard, he pulled his gun immediately.

A shock of fear ripped through him when Vagabond stepped out of the vehicle, a gun in his own hand, that dreadful skull mask on his face as usual. A handful of other armed men climbed out behind him. None of them were of the main crew, Dan realised, scanning his eyes over them quickly.

He half-lifted his gun, but felt a sudden piercing hesitation.

_Would you shoot him?_

Vagabond – _Ryan,_ Dan remembered – cut a terrible figure, and Dan had heard so many awful stories about him. And there had certainly been no love lost between them at their last encounter.

But to kill him-

It would hurt Gavin.

_How the actual fuck could he end up in a relationship with this guy,_ Dan thought rather hysterically; it was hard to see him as anything other than the angel of death that the stories made him out to be.

_Would he kill_ me _?_ Dan wondered then; if he really loved Gavin so much then he wouldn't, surely-

Where the fuck was Mike? The last thing Dan wanted was for him to wander in on all this.

He'd dithered a moment too long and the mercenaries had their weapons pointed at him now. If he made a move against Ryan he'd be killed on the spot.

“Dan Gruchy,” Ryan called out. “We're not here to hurt you.”

He didn't sound friendly, but his words were some reassurance at least, put aside a few of the fears Dan had had that Gavin didn't care about him enough to stop his boyfriends taking him out.

“Geoff Ramsey wants to speak with you,” Ryan continued. “I'm sure you know why.”

“Where's Gav?” Dan shot back, glancing at the van – it had tinted windows anyway, he couldn't see inside – there was no sign of Gavin amongst the mercenaries.

“He's not here right now,” was all Ryan said. “You can talk to him if you come with me.” He inclined his head towards Dan's weapon. “I wouldn't try anything if I was you. You're outnumbered.”

Dan wasn't about to push his luck; Ryan might not have been told to kill him but he was pretty sure Ramsey held no qualms about _hurting_ people. But he also didn't trust Gavin nearly enough to just happily saunter off with his boyfriend. This could still all be some sort of trap. He shook his head, not lowering his gun from where it was pointed at Ryan.

“If he wants to speak with me he can bloody well meet me himself, without all the guns – or send Gav,” he added, and saw Ryan tilt his head a bit.

“That's not going to happen,” Ryan said. “You're coming with me _now_.”

Now that – _that_ sounded a hell of a lot like a threat, and Dan scowled, rankled. But before he could do anything he was distracted as he caught sight of Mike emerging from around the building, coming up behind the van – he was behind Ryan and the others and they hadn't seen him yet, but his eyes widened as he spotted Vagabond's distinctive mask, and Dan felt a surge of alarm.

They mightn't kill him but they would certainly kill Mike, not to mention if this conversation carried on much longer the agent would hear things Dan definitely didn't want him to. He had to distract them somehow, do _something_ -

Turning, he charged the mercenary who was standing farthest from Mike, aiming to shoulder past him and run for the other exit to the courtyard. It was a foolish move and he was half afraid the man would shoot him, but it seemed they were all under orders not to hurt him; because the man grabbed at him but was summarily shoved aside.

Dan started to run, wanting to lead them away a bit, but he was outnumbered and it wasn't long before he felt someone tackle him, sending him crashing to the ground and knocking the breath out of him. He coughed, rolling over and trying to shove his assailant off, only to be crushed further as several others bore down on him, pinning him.

He punched one of them in the throat and they reared off, giving him the space to roll out and start to hit one of the others-

Only for there to be a sudden, searing shock on his lower back, and the next thing he knew he was frozen, rigid. His muscles pulling taut, so stiff that they _hurt_ , an electric pulse tearing through him that made his heart start and skip painfully-

He couldn't move.

He was paralysed, his whole body frozen, eyes rolling back in his head for a moment as he fell boneless to the ground again, unable to tell whether he was even able to breathe or not. Everything was a white blank shock of fear and it wasn't until the initial debilitating panic subsided that he realised, dimly, _tased – he fucking tased me-_

He felt rough hands haul him up. Incapacitated as he was, he couldn't so much as struggle as his arms were manipulated behind his back and he felt handcuffs fasten tight around his wrists. The next thing he knew, a dark cloth sack was being pulled over his head, and now he couldn't even _see_.

He was dragged upright and hauled over to the van, then shoved to his knees. Even then he could barely hold himself up, someone's hands remaining firmly on his shoulders, keeping him steady as the vehicle kicked into gear and he felt them begin to drive off.

He was still jerking and shaking with the aftershocks of the taser, even as, slowly, he regained some feeling and movement. His heart was slamming too hard, and when something bumped against the side of his head he flinched violently, afraid of getting shocked again.

That didn't happen; he realised presently that it was a gun, though he couldn't see it. The black bag effectively kept him from seeing _anything_.

He was completely helpless.

_Oh God._ This was not good – of course it fucking wasn't – he was hyper-aware of the gun's barrel inches from his head. Starting to breathe too hard, sucking in gasping pants. The bag felt hot and uncomfortable, closed too tight around his face, stopping him from breathing properly.

_Don't freak out_.

He'd been in worse situations than this, God, there was a laugh. But not for a while, and not all tied in with Gavin like this-

_Gav_.

Was he in on this? Had he asked Geoff to kidnap Dan, to get him back for what he'd done to him under the bridge – was it his turn to be on the receiving end now?

Dan was no idiot. There was no way Geoff just wanted to _talk_.

But there was nothing he could do, bound and still shocked and helpless as he was. All he could do was kneel, jolting at every bump of the van on the road under them, and wait to see where he was taken.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dan's turn >)


	6. Chapter 6

“Stop sulking,” Michael said finally, as they pulled into a car park a little way down from the block where Achievement City's art gallery was. His words broke the awkward, withering silence that had settled over them for the entirety of the 45 minute drive from the apartment to here.

Gavin glanced over at him; Michael was grinning but looked worried beneath that, obviously trying as hard as possible to put on a facade of normalcy.

“Only babies sulk,” he continued then, and Gavin just stared at him. With his mask on he knew Michael couldn't tell what he was thinking, and after a moment Michael sighed and then looked away, seeming to give up.

“Let's just get this over with,” Gavin said, voice tight as Michael pulled into a parking space. He took a few deep breaths, pushing down the annoyance that had been simmering in him the last hour. It wouldn't do to piss off Cwierz now, especially since they'd already had to make a couple of compromises with him on payment, but it was exhausting to have to keep up an appearance of such calm and pleasantry when all he really wanted was to get what he wanted from the man and leave as soon as possible.

He opened the car door and started to get out, when Michael grabbed his wrist and tugged him back in.

“Wait, Gav,” he said, all pretence of normalcy falling away. “Come on, boi, we need to talk about this.”

“What's there to talk about?” Gavin replied, stiffly, a bit thrown off by Michael wanting to do this here and now.

“Don't be pissed at Geoff. You know he has to do this shit to keep the crew running.”

Gavin knew. He knew, and maybe it was stupid and childish, but how could he _not_ be mad at Geoff for not even consulting him before deciding it would be a good idea to gallivant off and forcibly bring Dan back to them?

And, perhaps, most of his fear didn't so much come from the thought that the abduction might not go smoothly, but from what Geoff would do _after_ they had Dan. He still hadn't said a thing about what his plans for the man were.

What he'd do if Dan refused to cooperate.

There was no way Geoff would just let him go – not when he could be used against them so well. Not when his mere presence pretty much made Gavin helpless because he wouldn't be able to fool him, not Dan who he had known for so long. Probably wouldn't be able to hurt him, if it came down to it, and God, he hoped it didn't, the mere thought was enough to have his stress levels skyrocketing again.

He was worried, and his worry made him irritable, and he tugged his wrist out of Michael's hold, the other man's grip falling loosely away immediately.

“He's pissed at me too,” was all he said, but Michael shook his head.

“No he's not, not really, and you know it. Don't let this break us apart, alright?”

“It's not,” Gavin said, but suddenly wasn't sure whether he even believed that or not, if he wasn't just lying to himself the way he constantly tried to fool others. And then, “I'm not mad at _you_ , boi,” because he wasn't, not really.

Michael scoffed. “Yeah, that's why you gave me the silent treatment the whole way over here. Pretty weird having you _quiet_ for once.”

“I was thinking.”

“You're capable of _thought_ now? Jesus fuck, I think science has gone too far-”

“Shut up,” Gavin replied, but although he grinned a bit he still couldn't help it; he was angry at Geoff and probably would be at least until things got sorted out with Dan. It was hard to work things out anyway when Geoff wasn't even _here_. What he really wanted was to just get this over with and go back to the base so he could actually know what was going on. “Please let's not do this, Michael, not when I'm just about to talk to Cwierz.”

“Oh, right,” Michael replied, seeming to abruptly remember why they were here. He got out of the car, Gavin following, and they headed off across the car park towards their arranged meeting spot, a tall hedgerow in the park that bordered the gallery. It was well hidden from the road and quiet at this time of day.

Gavin took his mask off as they approached; Jordan Cwierz was one of the sorts of clients who had as much to lose as they did if any of them went down, so he'd let the other man see his face already – face to face transactions were important at this sort of higher-level stuff. It was a frigid day and the cold air hit his bare face like a slap, making him tug his coat further about himself in an attempt to stay somewhat warm. Michael was already pulling on his own sunglasses, being more recognisable than Gavin, just in case some member of the public came along and happened to have too good a memory of what Achievement City's most wanted looked like.

Jordan was already waiting for them, looking a bit impatient now. Gavin smiled as they approached.

“Sorry we're late,” he called out, and Jordan turned towards them. He looked briefly annoyed, though it faded quickly as they came up to him.

“How are you doing?” Gavin asked, but was summarily ignored.

“Was meeting so close to the gallery like this really such a good idea?” Jordan asked nervously, glancing over his shoulder at the gallery building – a truly horrifying feat of modern architecture – some distance away across the grounds.

Gavin shrugged. “You said you were busy with stuff here. It'd be more noticeable if you were absent because you were running around meeting up with us. Have you got the route for us?”

“Have you got the money for _me_ ,” Jordan replied, and Gavin nodded.

“Like we discussed on the phone, yeah? Half of this upfront, half when we confirm the route – one of our people will wire it to you – and your agreed upon cut of the heist once we've sold the Rembrandt.”

He was a little concerned Jordan would argue – they'd had plans originally to pay him his upfront half in cash here and now, but with the bank heist being the fuck-up that it was they hadn't the paper money – but Jordan just nodded, seeming anxious to get this over with as soon as possible.

“Right. Okay,” he said, and took out an ipad, showing him a map. Gavin leaned in over his shoulder to see, Michael holding a hand up to protect the screen from the sun's glare.

“The convoy leaves here Thursday, at five in the morning, from the back gate of the gallery. From there they're taking the harbour tunnel right across under the water; it comes out right near the airport.”

“That's not good,” Gavin murmured. “It'll be hard to get them in there.”

Their plan involved a cargobob, a giant-ass magnet, and a lot of rather reckless things that they couldn't pull off if the convoy was travelling underground. Having to rethink everything would fuck them over.

“It will,” Jordan agreed, “But they're not flying to Holland from here.”

“What?”

“They're stopping off there,” he said, and pointed to the city closest to AC. They were the only two major cities in the state, about an hour apart by air, and as such they were pretty close-linked, though Geoff's territory was predominantly only here. “Then they're carrying on with a different convoy – same layout though – right across the city, driving on to the big international airport. _Then_ they're heading off overseas. They've got a big private plane there that they couldn't get into the AC airport.

“I think that might be your best chance to grab it. Arrival time at this new city should be about ten am, and the drive from there to the airport is about five hours long, I have the whole route here. They reckon most people think it'll be leaving from AC direct to the Netherlands. Taking it here instead is their precaution.”

“That works out much better for us,” Gavin replied. Pulling the heist outside of Achievement City might lend them a better getaway, anyway.

“An out of town excursion,” Michael grinned. “Exciting.”

“Very exciting,” Jordan replied drily, seeming harried to finish as soon as possible.

From there it did not take long to arrange the rest of the things with him; he handed over the maps and route and Gavin showed him the arrangements to send him the money. It was all remarkably efficient, and Gavin was perhaps rushing it a little, impatient to get out of there, but Jordan didn't seem to mind, as eager to finish up as Gavin was.

He did keep staring at Gavin almost curiously, and it took Gavin a moment to realise it was because his face – though looking somewhat better today – was still faintly bruised and beaten. He hadn't gone so far as to put make up on to cover it up.

Jordan seemed simultaneously intrigued and horrified by it; Gavin felt a twinge of embarrassment. With upper class clients like this his face was his best asset; he had to look polite and friendly – professional – not be a walking display of the ugliness and violence of their business.

“People aren't going to come after _me_ , are they?” Jordan asked finally, as he made ready to leave.

Gavin barked out a startled laugh. “No, no, you're good. No one will ever even know you were involved.”

“Good.” Jordan's eyes flicked curiously to Michael – he hadn't met him before now – and Michael gave a rather jaunty wave, face implacable under his sunglasses. Jordan forced a rather nervous smile back before turning and scurrying off back towards the art gallery.

Michael couldn't help but laugh as he watched him power-walk away.

“He's very well dressed isn't he,” Gavin murmured. He'd expected some sort of old fogey when they set up this collaboration, but Jordan was young and rather dapper.

“You like that, Gav?” Michael teased. He was here to play bodyguard – _or babysitter_ , Gavin remembered a bit sourly – so he was wearing his usual leather jacket, aiming for intimidation rather than flair. “Are you disappointed by your slob boyfriends?”

“It'd be nice if you put in a little more effort,” Gavin replied, joking though; whenever work didn't require him to dress nicely he was well slobby himself. “At least Geoff wears a suit most days.”

“Well! I'm sorry we don't meet up to your fashionable expectations. I like how this is coming from the guy who wears sunglasses indoors,” Michael pointed out, pushing his own sunnies up and raising his eyebrows at Gavin. ''And what the fuck were you wearing last week, a striped polo on top of plaid shorts? Fucking print on print-”

“ _Print on print!_ You watch too much Project Runway.”

“Mr _let's pull an entire heist with all of us wearing double denim-”_

“That was for _comedic effect_ ,” Gavin protested, and Michael laughed again.

“I'll give you this, you do look good in a suit,” he said, reaching out to straighten Gavin's tie, then his lapels, leaning in too close as he nosed at Gavin's jawline. “Mm, I like your cologne.”

“We're not gonna make out like teenagers in the middle of the bloody park,” Gavin said, huffing a bit.

“You're no fun,” Michael complained, pulling back, but he looked very pleased and Gavin realised that he himself was smiling, had been distracted at least a little bit.

It came back to him now, though, and he realised that with work done here they could get back and see what was going on with Dan. He pulled his phone out and frowned as he realised Geoff hadn't so much as texted him to let him know what was going on, annoyance flaring up again.

“Let's get going,” he said sharply, turning to stride back over to the car, Michael following along in silence.  


* * *

 

  
The first thing Gavin saw when they got back to the building that served as their main base of operations was Ryan, hanging out in the entranceway talking to Kdin. Gavin's heart jumped; if Ryan was back that meant he had finished, that meant things had played out already.

“Where's Dan?” he demanded, striding over; Ryan turned to him, he still had his mask on.

“Hi to you too,” he began, but caught on quickly that Gavin was in no mood for faffing about. “He's in the holding room, Geoff and Jack are there-”

Gavin barely waited for him to finish before he turned and jogged off through the building. He flung open the door to what they called the observation room to find Jack and Geoff waiting in there, staring through the window.

The base itself was a repurposed office building. They'd completely changed the inside to suit their needs, and that included an enclosed room that served as a holding cell. It was not meant as a prison or a torture room by any means; it had sparse furniture – a table, a chair, a bed, all bolted to the floor, even a basic bathroom leading off it – but it was clinical and unfriendly still, and there was no getting out of it. Thick walls, a door without a manual lock that could only be opened with an electronic keycard or the master override here in this control room – and, upon one wall, an unbreakable two-way mirror leading off into the next room, through which they could view whoever they were holding.

As soon as Gavin entered his eyes zeroed in on Dan; he was sitting on the chair, head down, not so much as looking up at the glass. He didn't seem happy – not that Gavin could tell with his face turned away – but he appeared unharmed, and a wave of relief flooded over him.

“Gavin,” Geoff greeted. There was something reconciliatory in his tone, in the way he reached a hand out to him, but it was undercut by something more formal – here in their workplace while on the clock he had to be the boss, especially with Dan right in the next room – and Gavin straightened up.

“You got him then,” he said, and Geoff nodded.

“Ryan pulled him in about half an hour ago. We haven't spoken to him yet. How did things go with Cwierz?”

Gavin flapped a hand impatiently. “Fine. He gave us the route, it's all good.” He marched over to the window, staring in at Dan for a moment – his stomach twisting nervously, remembering just how badly their last encounter had gone – before he turned back to Geoff. “Let me go in and talk to him.”

“Gav,” Geoff said, warningly.

“What?” Gavin lifted his chin, turning to Jack then; the other man looked worried and Gavin wondered what Geoff had told him about their argument before. “Jack, you know I'm right, you know I'm probably the only one he'll even think about talking to. Besides,” he added, glancing at Geoff again. “He's my _friend_ , you can't just keep him from me.”

“Gavin,” Jack said gently. “This is complicated. We want this to work out as much as you do but right now, Dan being your friend is stopping you from thinking straight.”

Gavin stared at the two of them. “You're not going to let me go in there,” he said in disbelief.

“Trust me, Gavin, I want you two to have your happy little reunion as well,” Geoff said. “But like you told me this morning – we have no idea how Dan will react, especially to you! Come on, buddy, I already told you that I'm not going to hurt him. I'm certainly not going to _kill_ him. So let me talk to him first, see where his head's at, and you can talk to him later on, okay? When we know what he's thinking, when you've both had time to calm down a bit-”

“Don't you 'buddy' me. I'm not a child,” Gavin snapped. “I will not be placated like one. I get it, okay, I fucked up before by not telling you guys about this. But I _know_ how bad this can be for the crew, alright? I get it. I know Dan the best of all of us. I'm not gonna go in there and have some sort of weird care and share sesh, okay, I'm not gonna let him... let him turn me against you or whatever it is you're so damn afraid of.”

Geoff frowned. “That's not-” he began to say, but Gavin barrelled on.

“I'll do what you want in there,” he said. “I'll ask him what he's planning to do. I'll explain to him what we need from him. Maybe it will go well, maybe it won't, but I'm telling you now, I still _know_ Dan under all this, and I know he'll react a hell of a lot better to me than to you! He hates you guys, he won't tell you a damn thing. But he might tell _me_. You think him knowing me is making me weak, and maybe that's true, but it also makes me the _only chance_ we have of him _not_ turning on us. Okay?”

He'd barely finished speaking than a sound at the door behind him had him turning. Ryan and Michael entered the room, having caught the tail end of all this. Ray was out on a job somewhere, Gavin knew, and he wished he was here suddenly, that they could all just sort this out _together_.

But Geoff was looking at him now, something more thoughtful in it – Gavin had kept his tone calm, even if annoyed under it all, and he thought that might be the only reason Geoff nodded, slowly, after exchanging a glance with Jack.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay. But you're not going in by yourself. Ryan,” he added, nodding back towards him. “You head in there too, keep an eye on things.”

Gavin bristled a little. “I don't need another babysitter.”

“That's not what this is,” Geoff informed him, annoyed. “We don't know what he'll do, if he'll attack you-”

“He won't bloody _attack_ me,” Gavin began, but Geoff was frowning at him now.

“Go in with Ryan or don't go in at all,” he snapped, and all the earlier tension between the two of them rose up again. Maybe it was childish and petty on both sides – Geoff patronising, Gavin petulant – but this whole situation seemed to be bringing out the worst of them.

“Fine,” Gavin said, only to feel a hand descend on his shoulder.

He looked up to see Ryan. He was still masked, but they knew each other so intimately by now that Gavin could read his body language like a book even if his face was covered. _Calm down_ , Ryan seemed to be saying, his grip reassuring and firm on Gavin's arm, and even at that Gavin felt his annoyance fade away a little.

Geoff was letting him go in. That was what he wanted. Holding a grudge wasn't going to help him in confronting Dan.

And having Ryan there – it would be a support he could probably do well with, and he felt almost relieved suddenly. Despite all the arguments, he wasn't in this alone as he had been before. The others were still all here. He looked over and saw that Jack had gone up by Michael's side, one hand gently touching the other's wrist. Both of them looking concerned and a bit upset by the tension between their other boyfriends.

Gavin took a deep breath. Let it out slowly and let his anger fall away with it, for now at least.

“Let's do this then,” he said quietly, and felt Ryan squeeze his shoulder gently, the other's hand staying on his back as they turned and headed out of the room.

 

* * *

* * *

  
Dan had no idea where he was.

He'd been kept blindfolded until he was brought into this room. There was no clock, and he had no idea how much time had passed since he was grabbed.

He assumed this was a hideout of some sort, but this room certainly seemed designed to keep its occupant in – for however long the Fake AH Crew needed. There was a large mirror on one wall and he didn't doubt they were watching him through it. He kept his face resolutely turned away, not wanting to give them any indication of what he was thinking.

Not that he himself really knew what he was thinking.

He was angry, of course. Some part of him had thought – hoped, perhaps – that Gavin would convince his boyfriends to just leave him alone. But that was stupid. He was a threat to them, a threat they'd need to neutralise. And that meant that even if they weren't going to kill him, they weren't about to let him go free either.

He couldn't even trust Gavin. How was he meant to react to the rest of them, these robbers, killers, liars – the very epitome of the sort of crime he despised?

He was beginning to grow restless when there the electronic trill of the door opening. He sat up straighter in the chair, heart starting to pound as he looked to see who was finally coming to talk to him.

The door opened. Gavin entered, Ryan close behind him, shutting the door behind them.

Dan couldn't help the way his heart jumped at the sight of him; it was still a shock to see him walking around after thinking him dead for so long. Gavin seemed nervous, his eyes darting up to Dan's and struggling to stay there. He was sharply dressed, Dan couldn't help noticing, wearing a slim cut suit, tie hanging loosely around his neck. He hadn't seen Gavin in a suit since his own grandfather's funeral, and it only served to make him seem even more foreign. Some stranger who Dan didn't know anymore.

“Hi,” Gavin said, very awkwardly. Dan just stared at him, even as he approached and set a bottle of water down on the table Dan was sitting at. Dan glanced at it suspiciously and Gavin looked a bit hurt.

“It's not drugged or anything,” he said. “We wouldn't do that.”

“Oh sure, I believe that when your boyfriend over there fucking tased me.” He shot Ryan a filthy look and fancied he saw the man stiffen a bit guiltily.

Gavin looked startled, then very annoyed.

“ _Ryan_ ,” he scolded, turning to him.

“What?” Ryan protested, and Dan nearly did a double take at how different he sounded here – lighter, almost playful. “Had to get him here somehow!”

“Geoff said you weren't going to hurt him.”

“He's fine _now_ ,” Ryan said, and Dan huffed, looking away.

Gavin still looked cross, but he turned back to Dan and then blinked a few times as his eyes fell on where Dan's left wrist was handcuffed to the back of the chair; a chair which itself was affixed to the floor. They really didn't take any chances with prisoners here.

“Why is he tied up?” Gavin asked, and then looked up at the mirror. “Come on, guys, really?”

“You know why,” Ryan began, but Gavin turned and crossed the room back over to him, Dan watching in silence.

“He's not gonna try anything. Not with you in here. He's not stupid.” He glanced at Dan again and all Dan could do was glare, a little minged off by being spoken about as though he wasn't there. Still, he would be in a much better position if he was free, so he let his face soften and tried not to feel guilty when Gavin perked up a little at the motion.

“Ryan, give me the keys.”

“Gavin...” Ryan sounded rather pained. His head turned towards the mirror as well, and Dan didn't doubt all the others were watching from the other side.

“It'll be fine. Ryan, _please_ Ryan.” Gavin reached up and put a hand on Ryan's chest and all Dan could do was stare. Ryan still had his mask on but he was struck by the contrast between him standing here – still alert, but infinitely more relaxed – and the menacing Vagabond who'd faced off against him.

Ryan wavered, looking up at the mirror again, but Gavin reached up and turned his face back towards him. After a minute Ryan sighed and fished the keys out of his pocket, dropping them into Gavin's hand. His hand went to the taser at his belt though, turning to fix his mask's menacing stare at Dan, obviously a warning not to try anything.

He wasn't going to. He wasn't stupid.

“Thank you,” Gavin said, and then turned and walked back over to Dan. Their eyes met and Gavin hesitated for only a second before his lips pressed together and he leaned over to unlock the handcuffs. The movement brought him so close that Dan could feel the warmth of his body, see the small indents against the skin of his face where the edges of his mask had pressed in.

At this proximity it would be easy to seize him by the throat. To pull him close and use him as a shield, as leverage against Ryan to escape.

But he didn't, even as the handcuffs fell free from his wrist.

He didn't doubt he was outnumbered, that whatever building he was in was full of guards and mercenaries as well as the crew. That Gavin himself probably had some tricks up his sleeve to get free if someone did grab him.

And deep inside, he still didn't _want_ to hurt Gavin, not really.

He pulled his hand free and rubbed at his wrist, and then – after a second – stood up.

Ryan started forward in alarm at the movement, and Gavin stiffened but didn't step back. All Dan did was stretch, though – keeping eye contact with Ryan all the while – and then turned back to Gavin. He didn't sit down again, didn't like being at that disadvantage, and Gavin swallowed before stepping around to the opposite side of the table, his fingers drumming against the surface almost nervously.

There was a very awkward silence.

Neither of them knew where they stood with each other. They'd met on such bad terms last time and been parted so abruptly that Dan didn't quite know what to do or say. It was Gavin who spoke first, however. His voice was calm but not faked, which Dan was suddenly, absurdly relieved by.

“I'm sorry you got dragged here like this,” he said. “It's not how I would have done it.”

“This isn't your little revenge for what I did to you, then?” Dan asked, with a grim sort of smile.

“Of course not,” Gavin replied, and Dan eyed him speculatively for a moment before sniffing. He glanced at Ryan again and gave another tight smile.

“He's here to make sure I don't hurt you.”

“The others don't know you,” Gavin said quietly. “They don't trust you.”

“But _you_ trust me.”

Gavin hesitated, and Dan could see it, an edge of vulnerability in his face.

“I don't know,” he replied finally, and a half-hysterical laugh ripped out of Dan's throat because _look at us now, fucking look at us now, what have we even become?_

“You shouldn't,” he said. “Because I don't trust _you_.”

Gavin looked almost hurt, but he swallowed and said, calmly, “That is... understandable.”

Another awkward pause. Finally Dan nodded towards Gavin, his suit.

“Why are you all dressed up then?”

Gavin glanced down at himself, seeming almost startled, like he'd forgotten what he was wearing. “I... no reason, I was out meeting with someone. Working.”

“ _Working_ ,” Dan repeated, scornfully, and Gavin looked away, biting his lip. He looked hurt and for a moment Dan almost felt guilty, but he shoved it aside because Gavin _chose_ this, chose to make his living by breaking the law, and if he couldn't stand Dan pointing out just how _wrong_ that was, then that was his problem.

Ryan took a heavy step forward, seeming annoyed, but Gavin was already taking a deep breath, straightening up and turning to Dan with a much more businesslike look on his face.

“Geoff brought you here to talk,” he said. “Have you told Coal anything about us yet?”

“What if I have?” Dan replied testily, but Gavin just stared at him, tilting his head, and Dan felt uncomfortably scrutinised.

“Okay, you haven't,” Gavin said, and Dan scowled, annoyed by being read like he was some sort of target or mark of his. “Dan... this is hard on both of us, being up against each other like this, it's... it's not how either of us wanted to meet again. I know we sort of kidnapped you-”

“That's one way of putting it.”

“But we're not going to hurt you or anything. You don't have to worry about that.”

“But you need to make sure I'm not going to spill on you,” Dan sneered. All of Gavin's attempts at placating him were only rubbing it in that he was a hitch in their devious criminal plans, that he was a _problem_ for them when all he was trying to do was the right thing – stopping them terrorising the city further. And the presence of Vagabond, watching them from the side of the room with his implacable mask – knowing that all the others were staring at them from behind the mirror – only had him further on edge.

God, there was so much he wanted to say to Gavin still. _I missed you_ and _why are you doing this_ and _please, please, just stop, come back to me, I know this isn't you –_ but having an audience stopped him, made it easier for him to fall back on his anger to protect himself.

“I want to work this out,” Gavin said, but there was something helpless behind it, like he, too, didn't see any way they possibly _could_ , and all Dan's frustrations rose up again.

“ _Work this out_ ,” he scoffed, “You think I can get behind you doing _this_?” He swept his hand out, encompassing everything. This glorified prison cell, Ryan in the corner. “You think I can just _what_. Give up my job, everything I stand for, just to save your sorry ass because you decided it would be a good idea to join the most notorious crew this side of America?”

“I don't know,” Gavin said, helplessly.

“Because _you're_ not going to give up on this,” Dan accused, and saw the answer in Gavin's eyes, that no matter how much Dan begged or pleaded he wouldn't leave the crew, leave his _boyfriends_ , “ _I'm_ the one who has to change. Is that what you want? Me to join you on this side of the fucking law?”

“No,” Gavin began.

“Can you think of any other bloody way this'll work out? Your Ramsey isn't gonna give up his empire just to placate _me_ , is he?”

Gavin was silent, not seeming to know what to say. Dan scoffed then, so furious and frustrated and _helpless_ that he thought he might cry. He couldn't do this, couldn't stand here and keep fighting with Gavin while the others stood there watching from behind the glass, scrutinising him like some sort of lab experiment they were waiting to see the reaction of. He turned and stuck both his middle fingers up at the two-way mirror, then at Ryan, then threw one out at Gavin as well.

“Just fuck off, Gav, okay?” he sat down at the table again and turned his head away. “Just... fuck off.”

“Dan-”

“I don't know what I can tell you. I'm not gonna do what you want. I would have done fucking anything for you once, but that was... that was before. _This_ ,” he waved a hand at Gavin, the suit, the gun he could see at his belt, “This isn't someone I know. This isn't someone I _like_. So just – do one, alright? I don't want to talk to you right now.”

There was a tense silence. Dan stared at the wall, not wanting to turn and see the look on Gavin's face. After a minute Gavin turned and made for the door, and _then_ Dan looked over, just in time to see Ryan put an arm around his shoulders and lead him out.

The door closed, locking automatically, and Dan felt suddenly terribly exhausted, leaning forward and resting his elbows against the table, taking a deep breath.

Another meeting with Gavin and they'd parted on bad terms _again_.

And still no closer to answers.

 _Jesus Christ_.

 

* * *

 

  
No one came in for a little while after that. Dan didn't doubt they were still watching through the window.

He paced about the room, checking it out and stretching his legs. Everything was bolted to the ground and he could see no potential way of making an escape.

He checked his pockets but they'd taken everything he had – gun, phone, watch, even his cigarettes and wallet. Finally he returned and sat at the table again. He inspected the water bottle, found the cap still sealed, and trusted it enough to take a sip. When nothing untoward happened, he drank properly.

Left alone with his thoughts, he realised he still had no idea what the hell to do. Even if he somehow got out of here – _what_?

Whenever he confronted Gavin he just got angry. But still, still, _still_ some loyal tug, some memory of how close they used to be, prevented him from abandoning him entirely. It didn't help that Gavin still seemed to like _him_ a hell of a lot, to want the two of them to get close again.

 _This is fucked up_ , he thought, and rubbed at his temples, already beginning to feel a headache forming.

 

* * *

  
Presently there came the sound of the door unlocking again. Dan sat up, and then stiffened when Geoff was the one who entered – alone this time.

“Hey,” the man greeted, surprisingly casual. Dan was already rising to his feet, hands clenching defensively by his sides.

It was almost surreal, seeing the notorious Ramsey in person. He was surprisingly shorter than Dan had imagined, though his iconic moustache and suit had him easily recognisable.

He was dragging a chair behind him, and he pulled it up to the table and gestured for Dan to sit down as well.

“No point in us both standing about like idiots,” he said, and Dan slowly sat. He was still tense, on guard, but thrown off by how nonchalant Geoff seemed.

Geoff looked at him for a moment, almost thoughtfully, and Dan stared back, a bit uncomfortable under his scrutinising gaze. Then, to his surprise, the other man held out a hand.

“I'm Geoff.”

“I know who you are.” He made no move to shake it, and Geoff just shrugged and lowered it again.

“Yeah, but just being polite, dude. We technically haven't met yet.” He tilted his head. “It's interesting seeing you in person, to be honest. Gavin's told us about you before.”

Dan blinked a few times. He supposed that was to be expected; they'd been such a huge part of each other's lives. Of course he'd've told his boyfriends about him.

“Gotta say, none of us expected to ever _meet_ you,” Geoff continued then, and sighed. “And it would be easy, y'know, to wish that you actually were dead. I mean it, Gruchy, you're causing a fuckload of trouble I don't need. But I... I know Gavin's happy that you're alive.”

“Happy,” Dan muttered, and Geoff nodded earnestly.

“Of course he fucking is. He still cares about you. Probably too much,” he added, and then stared at Dan until he looked away uncomfortably.

“Don't you fucking ask me if I still care about him,” he murmured, and Geoff just shrugged.

“That's your business. But like Gavin told you before. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to kill you. But you have to know that I can't just let you go, not with you working with the Feds. Not when I know you're still very upset about Gavin's... _life choices_ , per se.” He sighed. “He really thought him coming in here earlier would be the best thing for both of you. I tried to warn him out of it but he was adamant he could get through to you.”

Dan didn't answer, and Geoff just sighed again.

“Anyway. First things first.” He fixed Dan with an intense stare. “What are you going to do?”

“Not much if I'm locked in here,” Dan shot back, but Geoff just flapped a hand.

“If we let you go. What would you do? You haven't told Coal about us yet. Are you planning to come forward? To keep trying to catch us?”

Dan's heart was pounding as he struggled to think of an answer. He could remain silent, recalcitrant, but that wouldn't get either of them anywhere.

“Fuck if I know,” he finally said, probably the most honest answer he could have given. “I know damn well what I _should_ do. What the right fucking thing is. But I also know that if I tell you that I'll keep my mouth shut about all this, you still won't trust me enough to just let me out of here.”

“After all the shit you just yelled at Gav, damn straight I won't,” Geoff replied, but not with venom. “The way I see it, Dan, you have a couple of options. We let you go and you can drop this job – come up with an excuse, an injury, fake a nervous breakdown, I don't bloody know. And you can go back to your job in England and stay away from my crew and never have to see us again.”

Dan stared at him. It wasn't an option he'd come up with himself, and the thought of just abandoning Achievement City – of trying to forget Gavin was even still alive – left a bad taste in his mouth. But even if he went back home, he was still technically working on the Ben King case. He'd be tied into the Fake AH Crew whether he wanted to be or not.

“Or,” Geoff continued, “Suppose you lied to us. Convinced us that you weren't going to spill and then went back and continued working with Coal only to turn on us anyway. You do anything of that sort and I'll be forced to take measures.”

“Thought you weren't going to kill me,” Dan sneered, and Geoff smiled brightly.

“I don't need to kill you. Just to let dear Agent Coal know all about your connection to us, exactly how much you've probably already been keeping from him. Trust me, that man does not like being messed with. You'd lose your job, your reputation, and probably end up doing time for interfering in the course of justice as well. Not a very pleasant road to go down.”

“You can't force me to go back to England,” Dan pointed out.

“Oh, I know,” Geoff replied. “But if you refuse to cooperate with us, we'll just have to keep you here indefinitely. Trust me, we have the resources; even the FBI will never find you here.”

“So I'm a prisoner then,” Dan said flatly, and Geoff shrugged.

“You're a... long-term guest.”

“So basically a prisoner,” Dan repeated, and Geoff smiled again.

“Basically,” he admitted. He sighed, stretching his arms back over his head before resting his hands on the table between them. Dan stared down at them; his scarred knuckles, the dark tattoos stretching out over his skin. In the photographs and video tapes Ramsey had seemed untouchable, like some god of chaos presiding over the destruction of the city. Here and now Dan could see the slight shadows under his eyes, the way one end of his moustache was fraying a little, the callouses on his hands. He seemed far more human.

 _Gavin fell for this man_ , he thought. _Somehow – the Vagabond too – I just can't get my head around it_.

“I know,” Geoff said, “That as long as you have this idea in your head of Gavin and the rest of us all as some sort of supervillains that it's your civic duty to take down, we're not going to properly convince you to get behind us.”

“Are you trying to tell me you're not bad people?” Dan demanded, and Geoff barked out a genuine laugh.

“Oh God, no. We're definitely not _good_ people. But Gruchy...” he leaned forward, eyes sharp and intent. “Nothing's as black and white as you seem to think. Not here, not in AC.”

Dan stared at him and after a moment Geoff got up with a little sigh.

“I'll leave you to think about it.” There was an odd note in his voice, like he'd gotten something out of Dan that Dan wasn't even aware of giving him; information of some sort, like Geoff had read something in him. “I know this won't be an easy call for you. If you need anything knock at the door, we have someone out there.”

Dan stared after him. Geoff crossed the room only to pause in the doorway and look back at him, thoughtfully.

“It's not often we get people coming here to Achievement City to play the white knight,” he said. “And when they do, they don't last long.”

Dan glared at him, some righteous indignation rising up again; he'd long made it his goal, his _duty_ to clean things up wherever he could. Letting go of that felt like a betrayal. But Geoff continued.

“Don't get stuck on what Gavin is now. He's the same person he was when you knew each other back in England. People change but... I've seen Gavin hijack a prison bus, blow up a service station, rob a bank. But I've also seen him take a bullet for Michael. Take us from allies to enemies with another gang because he found out their boss was beating his wife. Maybe he's not here to play the saint, the saviour, like you are. And I'm not gonna make excuses for anything that we do. But you were both important to each other once. And it's not many people get the chance to lose someone and then get them back again. Don't waste this.”

“You really think I can just _accept_ this,” Dan said, in disbelief, but Geoff just shrugged.

“Like I said. Nothing's black and white here. Your friends the Feds aren't exactly saints either.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and fixed Dan with a frank stare, his face surprisingly open and honest. “You think it's selfish, what we do. But for me, I look out for my crew. Everything I've done, I've done for myself and the people I love. Maybe it's selfish but I won't give that up for other people who don't give a fuck about me.”

 _It is selfish_ , Dan thought, but there was something else in it, something raw and almost damaged. And he thought then that this was how he might well have turned out too, growing up in the town he did, if he hadn't had Gavin and his grandfather. Only care about yourself and you can't get hurt. He remembered what Huang had said, about the six of them and their tight-knit circle that no one else was allowed into.

Geoff eyed him a moment longer before turning away and leaving. Dan watched him go and sighed as the door shut behind him, closing his eyes briefly.

Geoff Ramsey. Not exactly the tyrant he'd imagined. He'd been remarkably friendlier than Dan had anticipated. Remarkably more honest too.

He didn't quite know how to react; was just left here more confused than ever.

 

* * *

  
He was left for a long while under that.

Alone with nothing but his thoughts, he quickly grew bored – and then overly introspective. He couldn't focus on any one thing, just a muddle of all his different problems. Gavin. Geoff. Coal. If he could return to England and try to forget about all of this – knew he couldn't.

Stay here as their prisoner forever – or agree to do nothing about this, to just let the Fake AH Crew continue on with what they were doing and make no move to stop them.

He was surprised by how genuine he'd found Ramsey. If he'd met the man without ever knowing Gavin was still alive, he didn't doubt he'd have been far more suspicious of his sincerity. Would probably have hated him far more than he did now.

But already – already he was start to question things. To focus less on how Ryan looked so terrifying in his mask and more on how he'd put his arm around Gavin when they left. The same with Brownman. Seeing Ramsey as a person – a man who was in _love_ – rather than the terrifying mob boss, the man who had sent mercenaries after Coal to kill him.

 _Coal_.

They'd know he was missing by now. Mike would have told them what happened – if he'd even gotten away.

After a while he actually ended up falling asleep – too many restless nights catching up with him and having him pass out facedown on the table.

He woke with a start some time later, when the door opened again, sitting bolt upright and in a panic before he remembered what had happened.

“Sorry,” Gavin's voice rang out. In his half-asleep state, for a second Dan actually thought they were young again, that he'd fallen asleep in Gavin's dorm room and the other was coming in from his classes. But then it came back to him, and he shook himself, squinting up at Gavin tiredly.

The other man was alone. He was carrying a tray of food that he set down on the table. He looked tired – hair flat with all the gel washed out of it. Not in a suit anymore, just a t-shirt and jeans. It was the first time since they were reunited that Dan had seen him dressed casually and he was surprised what a huge difference it made. He looked much more like the Gavin he used to know, and a sudden pang hit Dan.

“Brought you food,” Gavin said then, very awkwardly. He looked so unsure of himself that it startled Dan, and he suddenly appreciated that Gavin _wasn't_ making an effort to hide it.

“You can't buy my friendship back with spaghetti,” Dan said, although to be honest it did look like really, really good spaghetti. It had bits of chopped up Italian sausage and onion and all, and his stomach let out a rather embarrassing sort of growl; his eating habits had been fairly poor lately. Too much stress, too tired to have much of an appetite. He'd never managed to quite put back on all the weight he'd lost during and after Afghanistan.

Gavin gave a faint, sad sort of smile. “Damn it. I told Jack we should have brought you pizza instead.”

“Now that might've done it,” Dan muttered, and froze; it had come too easily to joke with Gavin and already he could see the other staring to smile properly. He started to close off again but Gavin barrelled on quickly.

“Remember how much _spam_ I used to eat back in college?”

“Oh God, yeah. You'd put it in sandwiches.”

“Couldn't even put tomato sauce on it 'cause it'd make the bread soggy.” He retched a bit, seemingly at the mere thought. “Bloody spam and pot noodles, used to live off it.”

“That's why you were so scrawny.”

Gavin laughed. “The food here in America is top. Not the chocolate though, that's the one thing. Tastes like vom.”

Dan started to laugh but caught himself at the last second; his heart was racing – it had been too easy, too easy to get swept along in reminiscing. The reminder that this was Gavin, _his_ Gavin, Gavin who had all the memories of their time together.

Not a stranger.

But the mention of America had him abruptly remembering why they were here, and his smile faded. He turned and started eating if only to distract himself, and Gavin quickly stopped grinning too. He sat down on the chair Geoff had brought, fidgeting awkwardly as he watched Dan eat.

“No Ryan this time,” Dan said after a few long, tense moments of silence.

Gavin shook his head. “Took some convincing.”

Dan's eyes darted to his waist. “No gun either.”

“I'm hardly about to shoot you, am I?” Gavin asked. “But no. Geoff wouldn't let me bring one in if I was coming alone.”

“He's worried _I'd_ shoot _you_ ,” Dan said, and Gavin just shrugged.

“Apparently,” he said, voice rather guarded, and Dan pressed his lips together before glancing up at the mirror.

“They watching?” he asked, and Gavin shook his head. Dan eyed him for a moment, and Gavin looked back earnestly. He found that he believed him, and turned back to his food.

There was a long, tense period of silence in which Dan ate and Gavin methodically tore several paper napkins to shreds. Finally, as Dan finished up, Gavin cleared his throat a little.

“There are rules,” he said, and Dan looked up at him. He seemed nervous – not hiding it – but continued, voice steady.

“There are rules,” he repeated. “You don't kill civilians. And as far as possible, avoid civilian collateral damage. You don't make deals or trades with anyone who _does_ kill civilians. You don't take from people who have little or nothing, who can't afford to lose whatever it is you want from them. And you don't get kids involved, _ever_. I know it... it seems like wanton destruction, a lot of what we do. But we do think about these things. There's a code, of sorts. It sounds stupid. But it's there. Does it make us good people, no. But we... we do try, you know, not to cross that line.”

Dan was silent. Gavin pulled another napkin viciously apart, rolling the pieces into tiny balls between his fingers.

“You're right,” he continued. “The right thing to do would be to give this all up now. But I'm beyond that, Dan, I can't... I can't do that now. I don't _want_ to do that. We had all those grand dreams when we were younger. And maybe I betrayed that, and I'm sorry, and I never, _ever_ wanted to hurt you, but you're right, I've changed, and I can't go back to that, no matter how much you want me to.”

Dan didn't know what to think. He stabbed a piece of capsicum with his fork and took a deep breath.

“Tell me what happened,” he said quietly. “Tell me how you could even _begin_ to get involved with all this.”

“It's complicated,” Gavin began, and Dan leaned back in his chair.

“I'm not exactly going anywhere, Gav.”

Gavin's lips twitched. He took a moment to gather himself and this time Dan let him have the time to think.

“When you were away,” he said finally. “Stuff... stuff happened. I got mixed up with these people at college. They were in trouble with some of the gangs. It wasn't their fault, they got pulled in and while I was trying to help them I did too. I was stupid, I thought I could help them sort it out.” A wry smile. “Thought I was some sort of damn hero. But I got in over my head too. Before I knew it I was... doing things, you know? Lying and, and stealing – all just to help these guys – except I got in too deep. There was this guy, he knew about our involvement, he was gonna rat us out to some of the gang members. I didn't know what to do, I was still holding out that I could _fix_ it all somehow. Except then I heard that you'd died.”

Dan bit his lip. He got wrapped up in it sometimes, everything he had lost. It was easy to focus on the fact that Gavin had joined the Fake AH Crew and forget that _he_ had lost Dan as well.

“It was a breaking point,” Gavin continued, softly. “I just. Didn't give a fuck anymore after that. Everything was already so messed up and I just... what was the point. I went out and I killed that guy to keep the rest of us safe and I... I felt awful about that. The first one's the hardest.”

A terrible lump welled up in Dan's throat. This wasn't meant to be Gavin's world, killing people, getting _used_ to killing people.

“Not like I had much time to dwell on it, though,” Gavin continued, with a humourless huff. “Turns out killing him was a bad idea; it brought me to the attention of a lot of bad people. But it turned out I was good at talking my way out of things. At handling people. Managing things. I ended up making allies – to keep myself safe at first. And then later on just... I don't know, because I was already so deep in that I ended up just sort of working for them. And that was when I met Burns; he had contacts among some of them and we got in touch. And Burnie was different to all the others. We were _friends_ and when I ended up in some shit with a couple of the people I'd been working with, he got me out of there. Faked my death and brought me over here and found me jobs. I guess by that point I liked it. I didn't care any more.”

A silence fell. Gavin reached out and stole a sip of Dan's water, clearing his throat a few times.

“So anyway,” he said hoarsely. “There was never one moment where I gave up on everything that we believed in. It was just... complicated, and messy, but I came out the other side. And here I am.”

He was watching Dan nervously and Dan didn't know what to think.

He still just couldn't _understand_ it. Maybe because when he himself lost Gavin he'd, if anything, clung even _tighter_ to all their old convictions, determined to avenge him. And maybe that was the problem; Gavin was always the one he'd looked up to, the one who'd inspired him, and he couldn't wrap his head around how that could just change so _much_.

He remembered how they'd used to look at the people in their community; their schoolmates, their neighbours. And they'd come from shitty backgrounds, he knew, but he and Gavin had too, and they'd always held up to each other that it wasn't an excuse.

Their eyes met and he saw Gavin's face crumple a little as he seemed to see in Dan's eyes that he still didn't get it, that he wasn't accepting it.

“That's all I have for you,” Gavin said tightly, standing up. “I'm guessing you need more time to think.”

“That's about right.” It came out too cold, too stiff, and he saw Gavin flinch a bit before he nodded.

“Fair enough.” He grabbed up the tray. “Do you need anything?”

“I'd like to know what time it is.”

“Just past ten.” Gavin hooked the chair over his shoulder as well and made for the door. He paused, then, and glanced back at Dan uncertainly. “Goodnight.”

It had been a far more pleasant conversation than any of the others, and Dan felt another upset tug in his chest.

“Night Gav,” he said, so quietly he barely heard it himself.  


* * *

  
Dan slept restlessly that night. He kept waking with a little lurch, unsure where he was, then looking around at the clinically bare room and remembering all that had happened.

His mind was a mess of ups and downs. He alternated between a continued anger at Gavin – _not an excuse, it's not an excuse, he's still working with these bad bad people –_ and a terrible sadness, a longing to make up with him – _it's still him, your best friend, don't waste this chance –_

He woke up tired and irritated from his lack of proper sleep, and still no closer to a decision. He lay in bed staring up at the ceiling for at least an hour. Feeling like he was walking in circles all the time had him tired and frustrated.

 

* * *

  
At some point Gavin came in again, carrying a tray of breakfast food. He was wearing suit pants again, and a business shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Clean shaven and with his mask pushed up and resting on the top of his head, Dan could tell that he was about to head out on some other job, especially since he was moving like he was in a bit of a rush.

 _Even now, with me here, he's still going about all this crime shit_ , he thought, and took another downward slide on the roller-coaster of emotions he'd been going through, back into anger.

Despite his hurry, Gavin still paused after setting the tray down.

“Good morning,” he said hesitantly. “Do you need anything? Sorry we can't give you a razor, we-”

“I don't want to see you,” Dan cut in shortly, and swallowed down the guilt that welled up when Gavin's face fell a little before his jaw clenched and he nodded, leaving quickly.

* * *

 

  
His day got exponentially worse after that.

Being locked in here with nothing to do was grating on him. He did pushups for a while but stopped when his leg started to hurt again.

The moment he was inactive all the thoughts of Gavin flooded back in. The pressure of having to make a decision was overwhelming and the fact that he _couldn't_ come up with a solution had him steadily growing more and more stressed.

He was killing for a smoke. It had him restless, irritable, feeling like he was itching out of his skin. He hated the two-way window, constantly paranoid that someone was out there watching him, and ended up curled on the bed facing the wall, jamming his shaking hands into his armpits, a terrible churning in his stomach, feeling steadily like everything was just looming up too much, like he was drowning under the weight of it all.

 

* * *

  
Gavin stuck his head back into the room a little while later.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked quietly.

Dan barely glanced over at him, remaining curled on the bed. The mere sound of Gavin's voice made him flinch. A huge part of him wanted to grab him, hug him, just let himself have him _back_.

Still he held back. It was killing him to do nothing, to still be so unsure, and he heard Gavin give a little sigh before closing the door again.

 

* * *

 

  
It was Geoff who brought him lunch. Dan knew he looked a mess by now, twitchy and nervous, exhausted, but Geoff didn't comment. The man looked pretty tired himself, wrung out and tense. He put the tray of food down and then stood leaning against the wall, watching Dan and drumming his fingers agitatedly against his folded arms.

“How the hell does it work?” Dan asked after a few minutes; Geoff looked up, eyebrows raised questioningly. “Your thing. Six people.”

“Oh boy.” Geoff let out a long breath. “It's not easy, I'll tell you that. And mixing work with our relationship just gets it even messier.”

He gave a wry sort of smile and Dan's eyes trailed over the tired bags on his face, wondering just what was going on.

“Gavin say much to you last night?” Geoff asked then.

“What, you weren't listening in?” Dan asked, glancing at the mirror.

Geoff snorted a bit. “Gav asked me not to. I wouldn't go behind his back on that.” Another bitter laugh and Dan worked it out, suddenly; something had happened, Geoff and Gavin were fighting, or something like that.

“He told me a couple of things,” he replied, somewhat vaguely.

Geoff 'hmm'd. He seemed impatient, though, and left quickly the minute Dan had finished eating.

Dan was surprised to find he was almost sorry to see him go, if only because being alone in this room was starting to play with his mind; there was nothing to _do_ , he never knew if someone was watching him.

 

* * *

  
He eventually napped again, if only because sleeping was better than sitting around with his thoughts. What he didn't expect was to have a terrible dream; it was a conglomeration of things: Gavin's death, Gavin _now_ , Afghanistan and coming home from that – he woke in a cold sweat, panting, disoriented because the room was very bright but he felt like it ought to have been late into the evening by now.

And then he turned, and saw the fucking Vagabond standing in the corner of the room staring at him, and jumped a mile.

“ _Jesus_ fucking Christ!”

“Sorry,” Ryan said. The genuine awkwardness of his apology was very surprising coming from that deathly, grimacing mask.

Dan just stared at him, too shocked and thrown off to move. When Ryan started to step forward he stiffened, but the man just held out a cigarette.

“Thought you could use this,” he said, and then gave a low chuckle. “Normally this whole building is a pretty strict no smoking area. There are _some_ rules apparently. But we'll make an exception for you.”

Dan blinked at him, but took the offered cigarette. When Ryan leaned in to light it he stiffened again, but the man stepped back immediately afterwards. Apparently Dan wasn't even allowed to have a cigarette in the room without it being taken away afterwards, because Ryan stuck around to supervise, though he moved into the opposite corner where he wouldn't breathe in the smoke.

Dan watched him curiously. He wondered why only he, Geoff and Gavin had come in to see him so far. If eventually he might meet the rest of the crew as well. Ray, Michael, Jack – names and faces he'd seen but didn't _know_ , not the way he was starting to know the others.

He shook it off, unsettled by how he was starting to think of Ryan as a person more than just a mask, and smoked through the rest of the cigarette in silence.

 

* * *

  
When Gavin reappeared half an hour later, Dan found he was actually almost _glad_ to see him, if only because he'd been growing terribly bored again.

“Do you need anything for your leg?” Gavin asked, and had the grace to look a bit guilty about being the one to inflict the wound.

Dan paused, then shook his head; the injury would be fine and if anything getting the chance to rest it had helped.

“Never thought _you_ would stick a knife in me,” he came out with, and Gavin looked a bit guilty.

“I wouldn't've if I'd known it was you.”

“I know.”

A slightly awkward pause.

“Time was you couldn't even throw a punch,” Dan murmured. “I was the one what had to protect you from the bullies and things.”

“I did slash that guy's tires one time, remember? When he broke your nose?”

“That you did,” Dan replied, and couldn't help but laugh a bit at the memory. Their school really had been the pits.

Gavin gave a brief smile too. It wasn't long before a silence fell again.

“That guy in college,” Dan said quietly. “How'd you kill him?”

“I shot him,” Gavin replied. And then, “It was hard to get a gun in England.”

Dan nodded. Another silence, then Gavin turned and left. Dan was almost sorry to be alone again. He closed his eyes and could picture it too vividly. Gangly, too-young Gavin with an illegal weapon, firing a gun for the first time.

 _Killing_ someone for the first time.

It was an ugly thought and didn't sit well in his head. He took a deep breath and tried not to think of how easily Gavin held a gun now.

 

* * *

  
The room he was in was fairly well soundproofed and he almost never heard noises from outside, except for the brief times when someone opened the door to get in or out. Then he sometimes heard a faint babble of chatter, nothing he could ever make out.

This time when Gavin opened the door there was nothing but silence. Dan looked up; he'd been lying around again, getting nowhere with his thoughts.

The first thing he noticed was that it was quite dark outside the room, the other lights in the building mostly off. Gavin was dressed casually again, in tracksuit pants and a hoodie that looked too big for him, like it belonged to someone else. Dan bit his lip; again the change made him associate this Gavin with the one he'd known.

Gavin didn't speak, just watched him silently for a moment, and Dan was the one who spoke first this time.

“What?” he asked. It seemed too loud in the silence.

Gavin tilted his head, then asked, carefully, “Want to go for a walk?”

Dan sat upright in shock. “What, you're letting me out of this room?”

Gavin gave a brief sort of smile. “Took me a hell of a lot of convincing the others, but yeah. You can come out. But no funny business,” he added, pointing a finger at Dan warningly. “We still have guards around the place so you probably shouldn't try anything.”

His tone was joking but his movement shifted his jacket back and Dan could see he was still carrying a gun. The chance to get out of the room, however, was something he wouldn't pass up, and he nodded, moving to the door eagerly. At least now he might have a chance to work out where the hell he actually was.

The door led out into a corridor, a few other rooms leading off it. Dan caught sight of a couple of offices, a boardroom too, but most of the doors were shut and Gavin hurried him past them. The whole building was dim, only a few low lights on, and the place was ghost-quiet. He stuck close by Gavin's side, and while the urge was there to turn and try to run, he didn't want to push Gavin, to see how far he'd go to stop him actually escaping.

“What is this place?” he asked instead, trailing along behind Gavin.

“A hideout of ours,” Gavin replied rather vaguely.

“Where's everyone else?”

“Most are at home. Some on jobs.” Again a careful lack of specificity. “But there's almost always someone here all night. Security guards, mercs, some of the other members of our crew working late. We keep weird hours,” he added, with something like a smile. “A lot of the time one or the other of us is working through the night.”

A hideout. Who knew what secrets of the Fake AH Crew were being kept in here. Dan stared about curiously but Gavin seemed to be being careful about where he took him; he didn't see anything of note and before long he was leading Dan up a flight of stairs and out into what seemed to be a break area; there was a kitchen, opening into a wide lounge – and beyond that a large, glass window that looked out over Achievement City. It was evening, Dan realised, though moving into night now, the last vestiges of sunlight slipping down below the horizon, painting the foot of the sky in streaks of gold and purple.

“Tea?” Gavin asked, and Dan nodded absently. He wandered to the window and Gavin made no move to stop him; Dan marvelled at the freedom he was being given for the moment. The amount of trust Gavin had that he _wouldn't_ try anything, that he wouldn't try and pull one on him.

He had a vague thought in his head that by looking out the window he'd be able to tell where the hell this building was, but he realised quickly that he was so bloody unfamiliar with Achievement City that it didn't matter much either way. Still, he looked out, curious about the view; he'd been in the centre of the city where the precinct was but never really seen it from a high building like this.

The skyline was fairly unimpressive, to be quite honest. AC was an ugly place, low squat buildings alternating with the jagged lines of skyscrapers in the CBD. He could see the bay in the distance, and the big bridge across it, the red lights of traffic harsh and unattractive in the darkness, though the water itself was pretty enough, shimmering with the reflected lights of the city buildings. There was a big ferris wheel in the distance and Dan was suddenly, stupidly reminded of the London Eye. He was surprised to find that being here he didn't miss England all that much. Maybe it hadn't felt like home for a while.

Gavin came up next to him, pressing a mug of tea into his hand. He stood quite close by Dan's side – not quite touching him – and Dan was suddenly breathless with his proximity, now that neither of them were tied up, or shouting at each other, now that they were on relatively equal ground. Gavin's presence by his side was something he hadn't felt in too long.

“It's no London,” Gavin muttered, and Dan barked out a laugh.

“You can say that again.”

“It's got an ugly past,” Gavin added. “Built on a lot of death and corruption. And it shows, you know, the people here are... are different. There's not a lot of good.”

“You're not exactly helping,” Dan couldn't help but mutter; Gavin just chuckled.

“I guess we aren't.” He was quiet a moment, holding his tea up to his lips but not quite drinking it, the steam coming from the mug fogging up the glass in front of him.

“You know,” Gavin said then, “This is Geoff's kingdom, I guess. He owns a lot of it. And I guess the six of us are kind of the top dogs around here. But there's still so much shit that we just can't control. Other gangs, the politicians – the ones who haven't sold out to us anyway – we're not the only bad people here. But we do take care of the people who are allied with us. Small businesses, shop owners, people who aren't proper criminals themselves but help us out in exchange for protection... we take care of our own. Stop anyone else messing with them.”

“And what about everyone else?” Dan asked. “The people who don't work with you?”

“They find other gangs to take care of them,” Gavin replied. “Geoff's pretty benevolent in the grand scheme of things, even if we do mess with the police and the rich and stuff. But here in AC – you _have_ to find people to look out for you. If no one's watching your back you'll get stabbed in it.” He gave a small, wry smile. “Kinda like in our old town, y'know? You and I, we... we looked out for each other. And now the six of us, we do that too.”

“Except you and I weren't fucking,” Dan muttered, and Gavin laughed again, genuinely this time.

“Fair play. But I told you already, it's not just about that. We're a family, they've been there for me a lot.” He bit his lip, tugging at the strings of the too-big hoodie, pulling it about him like it was an embrace. Dan watched him quietly, an odd mix of emotions churning within him.

“I was always there for you,” he said finally, softly. Gavin glanced up at him, nervous again. “When I lost you...” he took a deep breath, struggling at the memory, but pushed on. “This, joining the police force, trying to wipe out the organised crime – I thought it was the last thing I could do for you, you know. Avenge you and... and live what we wanted for so long. To make a change. To make it better. I did it for _you_ , because it was what you and I wanted all along.”

There was a hint of betrayal under it all, that Gavin hadn't thought to do the same for _him_ , that he had, in fact, done the opposite in the wake of Dan's supposed death. There was a long, uneasy silence as they both seemed to realise this, and both of them turned to awkwardly drink their tea instead of confront it.

Finally, though, Gavin glanced over at him, a pained look on his face.

“When you died,” he said – voice thick - “It wasn't just like I closed off, like I bloody well turned to the dark side or whatever. I know a lot of the time it was me who'd bang on about the make it better stuff, like I was in charge of the two of us or whatever. I guess I was older, I was always the one with a plan. But you were _gone_ and I just – _lost_ , I felt so lost.”

He gave a bitter laugh, looking away, out at the city; Dan couldn't pull his gaze away, transfixed by the raw emotion in his voice, on his face.

“Bloody hell. I told Geoff I wouldn't let this turn into some emotional share-and-care thing. But I... I cried, you know. When you were gone.” He bit his lip, and then gave an awkward sort of laugh. “Haven't since.”

The words came out quickly, choked; Dan stared at him, aghast. It was more than just some emotional admission, Gavin _never_ cried, he knew, not since they were little kids. You had to toughen up quickly where they lived, but it wasn't just that, it wasn't like Dan or anyone else had been some weeping crybaby either. But Gavin had always had a remarkable sort of composure, even when he was angry, even when he was upset, and perhaps that was why it had been so hard for Dan to imagine him losing control, losing consciousness of his values to the point where he'd start deliberately doing the wrong thing, helping the wrong people.

He opened his mouth to reply but before he could get a word out there was a terrific commotion from elsewhere in the building. The sound of doors slamming – lights suddenly turning on – Gavin spun around, looking confused.

Dan could hear voices shouting, coming from another part of the building – Gavin rushed to a door nearby that led to the stairs to the lower levels of the building, but before he could see what was happening a great horde of mercenaries were rushing past him, moving through the lounge area to get to the stairs leading up a storey. Ryan was with them, and Gavin started towards him in confusion, only to stop and turn to Geoff instead when the other man came in next.

“Geoff, what's going on?” he demanded. “Why are you back so-”

Geoff rounded on him only to catch sight of Dan and pause, cutting off whatever he was about to say. He pointed at him and snapped, “Get him out of here.”

Gavin turned in surprise – seemed to have momentarily forgotten not that Dan was there, but that it wasn't a _good_ idea for him to be there – but before he could say anything, two of the mercenaries were moving to obey Geoff. They seized Dan's arms and half-dragged him back down the corridor towards his cell; he stumbled for a moment and nearly began to struggle automatically before he realised resistance was likely futile.

Gavin glanced at him, wide-eyed for a moment, but was quickly distracted by turning back to Geoff. Dan stared after him, confused and wondering what the hell was going on, why everyone had returned to the base so suddenly, but he barely had time to dwell on it before he was hauled off back to his cell, and left alone once more.

 

* * *

* * *

  
“What's happening?” Gavin asked, grabbing at Geoff's sleeve to get his attention.

Geoff and the others had left some hours ago, Michael to go home to the apartment, the others on a job that hadn't been due to finish for some hours at least. He himself had stuck around – as he had the night before – to keep an eye on Dan.

Having the other man here meant that since yesterday he'd stayed behind at their main hideout instead of going back to the apartment at night with the others. Perhaps it was weird, or too desperate, but he couldn't bring himself to be too far away when Dan was right _here_. Geoff had stayed back too – working in his office, finalising things to do with the Rembrandt heist – and Ryan had stuck back to keep an eye on Gavin. But things had been fairly strained between all of them. Gavin was preoccupied with Dan, and they were all distracted, busy with the change of plans involving the heist now taking place in another city. No one had had time to really sit down and talk.

Or maybe they had, but Gavin hadn't given them the opportunity, busying himself – part of him still wanting to deal with it alone. Having Dan _here_ was just – messing with him, he couldn't work out where he stood with the other man, but at least they could keep an eye on him, and to some extent monitor him to see where his head seemed to be at.

Today Gavin'd had to go out and work though. With the heist now taking place outside of AC there was more to do; people to meet with, things to arrange.

So he hadn't really run into the others all day. But everyone except Michael had, this evening, been going out to deal with another gang that had been giving them trouble. They knew where the group was based and had been going to meet them and take them out. But they shouldn't have been back for some time, and already a faint cold worry was starting up in Gavin's gut at the thought that something had gone wrong.

Geoff was distracted – barking orders at Ryan, something about checking the roads outside – but he turned to Gavin abruptly.

“The police intercepted us,” he snapped, sounding harried. “They fucking came up while we were trying to get that gang and broke the fight up, came after both of us. Two of our mercs are badly injured; we had to bring them back here because the police were up our asses and we couldn't get them to a hospital. By the time we lost them this was the closest place but fuck, they might still be after us.” A pause, and then he said, “They're crawling all over this city. They've even brought in reserves. They're looking for Dan.”

Gavin fell silent.

Jack stuck his head through the door then.

“I've called Caleb,” he said. “He's having a doctor sent over. Shouldn't be long now. I'll stay with them until he gets here.”

Geoff nodded. Glanced at Ryan, who was already getting ready to go out again.

“I'll keep watch, make sure the cops didn't manage to follow us back here,” he said.

Geoff nodded again, and then marched off to his office, pulling out his phone along the way. And Gavin was left standing alone in the lounge, sort of... floundering, helplessly, because everyone had vanished so fast. It took him a moment to snap out of his surprise and realise he should go find somewhere to help out.

Before he could, Ray materialised by his side.

“Gav,” he said, and Gavin jumped a bit, turning to him.

“Ray. You okay? I heard what happened.”

“I'm fine. Took out a few pigs,” Ray added. “But they really were all over the place. It wasn't fun. At least the other gang got fucked over as much as we did.” He reached out and pulled Gavin into a quick kiss; Gavin responded eagerly, and tugged him into a tight hug afterwards. The two of them had been so busy lately that they hadn't really had much time to talk. It wasn't unusual for them, as busy as they all were, but that didn't stop him from missing his boyfriend.

Ray rubbed his back, butting his head into Gavin's shoulder for a moment.

“How's it going with Dan?” he asked quietly.

Gavin bit his lip. He hadn't talked about it much with the others, beyond telling Geoff and Jack that Dan still hadn't made up his mind, that he was still ambiguous on the police front. But Ray wasn't asking about that, wasn't asking about what it meant for the crew.

“I don't know,” Gavin replied. “Sometimes I feel like I'm getting through to him... sometimes I think he just hates me. I can't tell.”

“It's probably up and down with him,” Ray said gently. “It has to be a lot to swallow. I mean, if it was me I wouldn't know what the fuck to think... I don't know. I think he'll need a lot of time to just process it. It's probably gonna be a mix of things for a while. And that's normal I guess.”

“I guess,” Gavin replied.

“I don't think he hates you though,” Ray added then. “I mean, I don't know. But it'd be hard to hate someone you – you were so close to for so long, y'know?”

Gavin nodded again. He gave a brief smile, feeling relieved to have at least told somebody how it was going, even if there wasn't all that much to tell.

“Anyway,” Ray continued. “If he doesn't come around we can just keep him here forever! Like the crew pet.”

“Ray, you're _awful_ , he's not a pet.” Gavin tutted. “And I bet you couldn't take care of a pet if your life depended on it.”

“How dare you insult my sense of responsibility,” Ray replied. “But yes it's true. I used to keep caterpillars as a kid, did I ever tell you?”

“They die?”

“Turns out it's a bad idea to leave them in a glass tank in the sun.”

“Weak.” He smiled though, glad that the conversation had distracted him a little. “You going back to the apartment? Or is Michael coming over here?”

“He's coming over, we called him already.” Ray glanced off in the direction of Geoff's office and his face tightened. “Gavin...”

Gavin's smile faded.

He and Geoff were... not arguing, but had never actually quite made up after their previous tiff. They just hadn't had time to sit down and work things out, and they were both still so stressed that whenever they did communicate it was always terse and businesslike. And Geoff had been short enough with him just now that Gavin was a little worried he was still somehow mad at him.

“You need to talk to him,” Ray said.

Gavin pulled a face and Ray groaned and elbowed him.

“Come on, dude, I know how you get. Sort this out before it gets even worse. _Communicate! Communicate_!” he chanted, and began pushing Gavin towards Geoff's door.

“Alright, alright,” Gavin protested.

Ray grinned, patting him on the shoulder before turning and loping off back downstairs. Gavin paused outside the door to Geoff's office, his heart starting to race.

It was awful that he should feel so nervous before talking to his _boyfriend –_ only further evidence that they needed to fix things. He hated fighting, hated the awkward limbo they always ended up in, and took a deep breath before knocking gently on the door and pushing it open.

Geoff was standing, head down, hands braced on his desk. His phone lying on the table beside him. His shoulders were hunched and tense and Gavin felt a terrible pang; Geoff had been stressed as hell lately, he knew.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

Geoff turned to look at him and Gavin shut the door behind him. Geoff looked so tired, much older than he generally ever did. It wasn't just from work; Gavin knew their fight was wearing down on him too.

“No,” Geoff replied. He had a glass on his desk, Gavin realised, and reached to take another sip from it.

Gavin bit his lip, unsure what to say. He started to step forward but stopped when Geoff spoke again, running his hands over his face tiredly.

“This... Dan and all... it's not what we need right now, Gavin. It's just really, really not what we need.”

“I'm sorry,” Gavin spoke up, feeling some need to apologise, he wasn't sure for what.

Geoff just shook his head. “Keeping him here is dangerous. Really fucking dangerous. But it looks like we'll have to do it at least until after we pull off this heist. There's no way we'll sort things out with him before then.”

“Geoff...” Gavin half-reached out only to falter, uncertain. “I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to make it worse by not telling you right away.”

“I know you didn't,” Geoff said, and gave a small, tired smile. “I'm not mad at you, Gav.”

Gavin's silence spoke volumes, and Geoff sighed again, running a hand through his hair.

“I'm _not_ ,” he repeated. “And I don't like it – I don't like having to order you around and tell you off, alright? That's why this is all so fucked up. Dan coming back, it's personal, _too_ personal, but it has so many damn repercussions for the crew. It's always been a balancing act.”

Gavin bit his lip.

“You can't treat this like it's business,” he said softly. “Because it's not business to me.”

“I know,” Geoff said, and pressed his hands to his eyes. Gavin did step forward then, still a bit hesitant, but Geoff reached out for him and Gavin moved to pull him into his arms.

It was a relief to hug, to be close again. They didn't say anything, but seemed to come to a mutual agreement to let all the resentment go; Gavin leaned in to press a kiss to Geoff's hair, his cheek, his tired closed eyes, and felt a little of the tension fall from the other's shoulders.

“Sorry for being a mingey little bitch,” he murmured, and heard Geoff huff out something like a laugh as he pulled back.

“Sorry for playing the asshole boss,” he replied. “I was just worried about us all, you know? About what this could do to us. But you're right... it's not just business. We'll work it out. We always do.”

Gavin gave a small smile and Geoff reached out, brushing his fringe back from his face. He cupped Gavin's cheek, a bit hesitantly, and Gavin leaned in to kiss him properly. It was comfortable, familiar, and exactly what he needed after all this drama with Dan; he felt a sudden guilt at how much he'd been pushing all the others away. He knew they were all just trying to help. It was something they'd all had to let go of, getting into this relationship; trying to deal with things on their own the way they'd all been used to for so long, for their various reasons.

Geoff looked a bit guilty too, when he pulled away.

“You're not weak,” he said. “For Dan affecting you like this. Now that I've seen him, talked to him... I can see it's affecting him too. And you _are_ our best chance of getting through to him. I shouldn't've tried to keep you from it.”

“I was being pissy about it,” Gavin admitted. “It doesn't matter now, though. We'll keep trying. Right?”

“Of course,” Geoff said, and sighed, something very relieved in it. “We're okay then?”

“Of course we're okay.”

“Good.” Geoff leaned in, more confidently now, kissing him again, his hands dropping to Gavin's waist and pulling him closer in. Gavin let his eyes slip shut, suddenly missing all the others – Michael, Jack, the six of them hadn't found time to all be together in a couple of days now. And with all of them so stressed they probably needed each other more than ever.

But here and now he had Geoff, and Gavin let his own arms wind around the other's back, holding him close.

“Love you,” he murmured out against Geoff's lips the second they pulled apart.

Geoff laughed again, and leaned in to nuzzle at his cheek.

“I love you too, Gav,” he said, and Gavin smiled, relaxing properly for the first time in a while; it was always stupid how quickly they made up when they did finally get over all the faffing about. But he was glad of it, and Geoff reached out to the desk now and grabbed the bottle of liquor he'd been drinking, moving to pour Gavin a measure.

“Help me call up some people to work out what the police are up to?” he asked, and Gavin nodded, taking the glass and moving to perch himself on the edge of Geoff's desk; working late nights was overly familiar to both of them, but it was always much better when they did it together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of people have asked me, so it's probably worth mentioning that I am still gonna keep Ray in my fics and continue writing OT6 with all of them in it :') I'm going to miss him in RTAH stuff but I'm glad for him if he's moving on to something that will make him happier <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> c/w: some discussion of smoking and drugs

Another sleepless night.

Dan lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The dim light and clinical white walls reminded him of the time he had spent in the hospital after coming home; so did the bedsheets, soft enough but itchy with some unfamiliar laundry detergent.

He wondered what the hell was going on outside.

A job had gone wrong, that much was apparent, and he was seized with curiosity. Being here in what seemed to be the heart of the Fake AH Crew's operations was very strange, but even stranger than that was the familiarity with which Gavin had moved about the place, like it was some second home to him. Dan closed his eyes and tried to imagine him spending days here, months here, _years_ here. Standing looking out that window with Geoff by his side, or curled up on the couch against Vagabond or Brownman. It was an odd scene to him, uncharacteristically domestic.

All grinding it further in that Gavin had a _life_ here, without him-

And what did he have? A lonely apartment back home, a car he hadn't payed off yet. No long-term lovers, no close friends to speak off. A hundred nights down at the pub full of empty laughs with his coworkers. Nicotine-stained fingers and police cases under his belt and little more to speak of than that.

But _I cried when you died_ – and he could see it, in each of their increasing interactions, that Gavin hadn't _forgotten_ him, not really, that he had been something Gavin carried around the same way Gavin was something _he_ carried around, even if it was in a vastly different way, a way Dan perhaps didn't understand yet.

Still. Their conversation today had been... good, in a way that simultaneously relieved Dan, that the Gavin he knew was still in there, that they could still get along – and also made his decision a lot harder.

 

* * *

 

When the door opened some hours later, Dan sat up, expecting Gavin, but paused when two new faces entered in turn.

He recognised Michael Jones immediately, although without the manic grin on his face and no explosions in sight he seemed oddly, uncharacteristically subdued. So normal looking that if Dan had passed him in the street and hadn't known who he was, he wouldn't have looked twice.

Brownman was with him, mask-off, and Dan couldn't help but stare; the guy was a lot younger than he'd expected. They both looked tired but not hostile, didn't even have guns out, and far shorter in person than the security camera photographs had made them seem.

“Morning,” Michael greeted, and the two of them proceeded to stand there with their hands shoved in their pockets, staring at him.

Dan was rather confused, and wondered what this meeting meant.

“Did you need something?” he asked finally.

Michael shook his head. “Nah. Just thought it was about time we came in and introduced ourselves.”

“We were curious,” Brownman added, and then stepped forward and held out a hand. “I'm Ray, by the way.”

This time Dan did shake it, more automatically than anything else.

“And I'm Michael,” Michael added, “Which you probably know already; I don't doubt Coal has already told you all about the Big Bad Blows-Shit-Up guy.”

Dan nodded, still confused, still wary. Wondering if this was all some ploy. He might be a prisoner here but by coming in, being amiable, introducing themselves to him – keeping him fed and watered – perhaps they were trying to get on his good side, to coax him towards _trusting them._

That alarm, that potential that they might all be manipulating him the way Gavin had tried to manipulate him under the bridge, struck him like a blow and had him immediately tense.

 _No getting soft now. No matter how you feel about Gavin remember that these guys,_ these guys _are bad news._

Ray was still staring at him and after a moment he let out a bit of a huff.

“Honestly I kind of expected you to be taller,” he commented.

“I find that hard to believe,” Dan replied, being of six foot plus and the other two themselves considerably less.

“Nah, seriously man,” Ray said, “When Gavin told us about you – not, like, recently, but before, when he was telling us about this friend he used to have... dude, you'd think you were God damn Hercules.”

Michael nodded vigorously, laughing. “Oh yeah. Great big strapping Dan. Tall as a mountain, strong as an ox, swift as a fucking coursing river or whatever.”

“Like fucking Captain America,” Ray added. “Except, you know, you're not American. Captain England. That doesn't sound as good.”

“The whole _truth and justice_ thing apparently fits though,” Michael muttered. Dan could only really stare between the two of him. Some part of him oddly touched that Gavin had – even thinking he was dead – talked him up so much to his boyfriends.

“Suppose he didn't tell you about the part where _truth and justice_ were his life goals too,” he couldn't help but say, a little sourly, and their smiles faded a bit.

“Here in AC you might as well go looking for unicorns and rainbows,” Michael replied, a bit sharply.

Dan started to frown but Ray was already butting in.

“You know rainbows actually exist,” he said, turning to Michael.

“Shut up Ray. It was a metaphor.”

“It was a crappy metaphor and also not actually a metaphor at all-”

“Oh my God. Shut up. I didn't realise you were a fucking professor of English language techniques. Go back to the armoury and sharpen a knife why don't you.”

“I'll sharpen my knife _in your asshole_ ,” Ray shot back, and they both started chortling; Dan could really only look on flabbergasted at this rather undignified display, his face only contorting further in confusion when for some unfathomable reason Michael started making rather unrealistic blowjob noises.

And there was a fondness, to it, in how Michael's voice had risen but with no real anger in it, in how all Ray's jabs came out through a grin, how his eyes crinkled up when he looked at Michael and Michael couldn't seem to stop smiling whenever he glanced over at him.

It was the most ridiculously sappy display of underlying love he'd ever seen on two people's faces, and here it was on two of the most notorious criminals in the whole country. He almost couldn't believe it.

“Anyway,” Michael said, when he finally stopped laughing. “You're a bit stuck.” His tone was friendly still but there was an odd underlying seriousness. “No one stays good here for long.”

Dan didn't like the sound of that. He bristled indignantly, that righteous anger rising up again because _he_ was different, _he_ wasn't going to pull a Gavin and just give up on everything he believed in-

 _But haven't you lied already_ , a treacherous voice whispered at the back of his mind, _haven't those lies already started to catch up with you – even now aren't you practically consorting with the enemy; accepting their food, their cigarettes, softening for Gavin, not even attempting to escape-_

_Letting yourself see these two here now as young men in love and not thieves and murderers-_

The sound of the door opening had them all turning, jerking Dan out of his reverie. Gavin entered the room, and did a double take when he saw Michael and Ray.

“What are you guys doing in here?” he demanded. He looked like he'd been up most of the night; unshaven and with his hair dishevelled.

It was funny, Dan thought, how neat, proper Gavin in a suit or a mask made him nothing but angry. But whenever he saw him like this – messy and casual – it was getting harder and harder to separate him from the friend he used to know.

Michael and Ray both smiled to see him.

“Just saying hi,” Michael replied. “Introducing ourselves.”

Gavin looked very suspicious, and Michael laughed.

“Relax. We haven't been telling him embarrassing stories about your numerous screw-ups.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Gavin began, in a tone that implied he very well _did_ , and Michael laughed again.

“There's a reason we don't let you getaway drive any more. But you guys probably want to talk. We'll leave you alone for now.” He leaned in and kissed Gavin on the lips. Dan watched, transfixed; it was quick and fairly chaste but there was an ease to the way they drew together, to how Michael easily nestled his fingers in Gavin's hair and Gavin let his hands drop to Michael's waist.

Ray reached out and pressed Gavin's wrist, smiling at him before he opened the door and slipped out of the room with Michael. Gavin looked after them for a moment before turning to Dan and, abruptly, flushing a little, seeming suddenly self conscious at that little display.

“How did you end up with those two?” Dan asked, curiously.

“What?”

“I still don't get how this whole six-people thing works,” Dan replied. “How does something like that even _start_?”

Gavin bit his lip, deep in thought for a moment.

“There aren't really rules here,” he said finally. “When you live like us – when you don't care what society says, what other people think of you – you can do what you like. Live for yourself. I know what people say about us,” he added, “The other gangs who know. But we don't give a fuck about that. Our relationship is what it is.”

Dan nodded, slowly.

“Michael and Ray and I,” Gavin continued, and then smiled briefly. “Or the _lads_ , as we like to call it... I was already with Geoff when we sort of got together. Jack too, kinda, there was a... thing, between the five of us. A tension I guess. And Michael and Ray were together first and we were all sort of dancing around it. But then one of our jobs went wrong. We were meant to escape by boat, across the harbour, but some of our explosives didn't work and we couldn't get the police off our backs.

“I ended up stranded up out in the water – no boat or anything, actually _in the water_ – for literally hours. Thought I'd drown, thought I'd get picked off, there were police boats and helicopters and shit everywhere. I nearly died. And finally Ray tracked me down and came out to get me in a boat except one of the cops launched a grenade at him and he nearly died too. All Michael saw was the explosion and Ray's earpiece cut out so he didn't know what had happened. He thought he'd lost him. Thought he'd lost _both_ of us – and he nearly did too.”

Dan listened in silence; it was a grim reminder of the danger they lived in, but undercutting it all that _closeness_ that all of them shared, far deeper than any normal criminal gang – hell, all the others Dan had seen weren't nearly so loyal, half of them would stab the people they were working with in the back if it'd get them a profit.

“We were fine,” Gavin said then. “Obviously. But Michael was scared, and he didn't want to wait long after that. When we got out of there he just said _fuck it_ and, well. Sort of jumped me.” He huffed out a laugh. “But yeah. When you think you can lose each other at any minute you don't waste time. And thus big gay threesome.”

There was a pause as Dan took this in. He still struggled a little to wrap his head around it, if only because it was so far outside the realm of his own experience. But however this relationship had come about, they really did seem to be making it work, in the little glimpses he'd gotten of it so far.

Gavin cleared his throat then, and asked, hesitantly, “You, uh... you haven't found anyone yourself then? No one back in England?”

“No,” Dan replied, and Gavin gave a small laugh.

“Time was of the two of us you got all the girls.”

“Because _you_ were too chicken shit to approach anyone unless you were wasted!” Dan replied. The teasing note crept into his voice unbidden. “How the hell are you Ramsey's frontman when you're always terrified of talking to new people?”

“It's easy to pretend,” Gavin admitted. “When I don't care about them. When I don't need them to like me personally.”

A sudden awkwardness settled between them as Dan suddenly recognised that look in Gavin's eyes, like he wanted _Dan_ to like him, like Dan, in all of this, was suddenly new too.

“I'll bring you food in a bit,” Gavin said then, and left quickly with barely a goodbye, the door shutting firmly and sealing behind him.

 _Well_ , Dan thought, and slowly sat down on the bed again, left even more mixed up after this peculiar encounter.

 

* * *

 

For the rest of that day his interactions with Gavin continued in little stops and starts, the other popping in and out – between his duties, it seemed, though Dan was pretty sure he didn't actually leave the base that day, was working from here – and it was almost better that way, for both of them. Let Dan have time to think. Didn't keep them together long enough for any sort of conflict to properly break out.

They asked each other questions, mostly, a little at a time.

“Where did you get that scar?” Dan asked, noticing it suddenly when Gavin came in to take his breakfast tray away, a job that he knew could have well been done by one of the grunts who guarded the door constantly.

It was a thin sliver of a thing near the top of his hairline, hidden under his fringe most of the time, only visible now because he'd gelled it back. Looked healed, but not so old that it had started to fade yet.

Gavin reached up and touched it gently.

“Someone shot out a window near me,” he said. “Glass caught me. I'm lucky it didn't go in my damn eye.”

“Yeah, I can't exactly imagine you pulling off an eyepatch,” Dan muttered, and Gavin's lips twitched a bit.

“You, uh,” he began, and Dan raised his eyebrows.

“What? Expected me to come back from tour in worse shape?”

“You were _missing_ ,” Gavin replied quietly. “For over a _year_ , Dan, people don't... don't just come back from things like that.”

The unspoken question was there, _what happened_ , but classified information aside it wasn't something Dan was inclined to talk about at all.

“They're all under here,” he said, gesturing down at his clothes. Gavin's eyes flickered down and his lips pressed together, looking upset for a moment. But the conversation had reached its conclusion and he left quietly after that.

“How did you end up riding a motorbike?” Dan asked the next time Gavin popped in to check on him. Last he'd seen the other man he hadn't even had his driver's license.

Gavin smiled a bit. “Ryan helped teach me,” he replied, and there was such a brightness in his eyes at the memory that Dan couldn't help but marvel at it.

Other questions like that. _What exactly do you do for Ramsey_ cut against _do you live with the others all the time_ and _have you ever accidentally killed a civilian_ and _you didn't ever even finish your degree, did you?_

Gavin answered vaguely sometimes, still, it seemed, not quite willing to give away all of the crew's secrets. Dan let it slide.

“Ben King,” was all he said, when Gavin came in again later that afternoon. He seemed to be checking in on Dan whenever he had the time, always asking him if he needed anything.

Gavin's face clouded over a little.

“I'm worried about him,” he replied, and looked at Dan like he thought Dan might tell him more – where they were holding the boy, what was happening to him – but Dan pressed his lips together and turned away, some stubbornness rising up in his chest as he remembered, abruptly, his duty to the law and his superiors and, you know, the common bloody good.

Gavin didn't push. After he left Dan wondered whether Ramsey had other people in England, if even now they were trying to break King out.

Gavin brought him a cigarette a bit later on, then stood in the corner with his nose wrinkled.

“Should take you out and over to a window,” he grumbled. “This whole room stinks. Now I'll smell like it too.”

“Hey, you're the ones insisting on keeping me in here,” Dan pointed out.

Gavin watching with something like distaste as he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and tapped the ash off it.

“That stuff kills you y'know.”

“There'll be a bullet in me long before this has the chance,” Dan muttered, rather morbidly, and Gavin looked away again.

“Surprised you haven't picked up some unsavoury habit by now,” Dan added, a little vindictively. Their last conversation had left him antsy and Gavin's disdain for this new habit was only rubbing it in that he _hadn't_ been there when Dan came home, when he picked this up, that there hadn't been _anyone_ who cared about him enough to nag at him to quit.

Gavin scowled a bit. “I haven't 'picked up' _anything_ ,” he said defensively.

“I've read the case files. Ramsey has a drug presence.”

“A selective drug presence,” Gavin replied stiffly.

“Oh, that makes it better.”

Gavin's brows drew together and he looked like he wanted to say more, but someone knocked on the door then, calling out his name – Dan couldn't tell the others apart well enough to work out who it was – and he departed quickly after that.

They didn't pick that conversation up again. Reverted back to their little questions-

“Do you live in London now?” Gavin asked, taking his turn to sate his curiosity.

“Yeah."

“Do you prefer it there?”

“I don't prefer it anywhere,” he said, and Gavin looked a bit sad suddenly because Dan really had _very_ little to tell him, he had to have realised, hadn't built much of a life the way Gavin had here, full of stories and travel and _love_ -

“Do you miss England?” Dan asked the next time he came in, and Gavin looked a bit thrown for a moment before shaking his head.

“There was nothing to miss,” he replied, looking away, and _oh_ Dan thought, and wanted to reach out and touch him, suddenly, but Gavin was standing on the other side of the room and he'd have to get up to go over to him, and he left before Dan could properly consider it.

There were things Dan didn't ask. Things he couldn't – didn't _want_ to – know the answer to yet. Like _do you enjoy it_ and _now that I'm back do you wish this had played out differently_ and _if I ask you to stop all this, to just come home with me, to pick me or them, how will you let me down gently-_

Still, he gathered more. Bits and pieces.

“There was never a point when you could have copped out of this all,” he asked quietly, as the afternoon wore on. “Back in England, when this all started, you never wanted to just... get out? You couldn't find _any_ way?”

Gavin looked away at that one.

“Maybe I could have,” he admitted softly. “But I was fast losing reasons to.”

So there they were, feeling it out, wondering how they could make this work, how they could know each other again, and-

 _I'm gathering information_ , Dan told himself, in every space alone between the times Gavin came and went. It was the only way he could justify this to himself, he wasn't, _wasn't_ letting himself get close to Gavin again, not really, he wasn't falling into what could very well still be a trap, a ploy to get him on the Fake AH Crew's side. Especially when half the stories and answers Gavin gave him related to some form of criminal activity.

Often Gavin just paused at the door rather than directly coming into the room. One time Ryan was with him, silent, masked as usual, watching Dan implacably but with one hand resting on Gavin's shoulders in a grip that was far too gentle for someone Dan knew for a fact had killed dozens of people.

He picked up little things, as well. That Gavin always had a gun on him. That whenever he entered the room he'd take the keycard he used to open the door and slip it into the back pocket of his jeans, and he didn't need it again since the door locked automatically behind him. That sometimes he'd involuntarily bring a hand up like he was going to adjust a mask he didn't actually have on.

That he never touched Dan, never got close enough to.

 

* * *

 

Some time later the door opened again; Dan rose, expecting Gavin, but yet another new face came in. It wasn't one of the guards he'd started to recognise but another man; some years older than him, his most distinctive feature an impressive ginger beard. He was dressed far more casually than the guards were, and carried a first aid kit in one hand.

“Hello, Dan,” he said, with a smile that was surprisingly genuine; even Ramsey hadn't smiled when he came in, Michael or Ray either.

“Hi,” Dan replied cautiously, unsettled by not knowing who the hell this was.

He soon found out, finding himself presented with another hand to shake.

“I'm Jack,” the man replied, and his grin widened a bit. “The mysterious sixth.”

Dan was taken aback. The crew had kept their secrets so far; Gavin wouldn't tell him anything about their current operations and he wasn't fool enough to think Ryan would ever take off his mask around him. Truth be told he'd nearly forgotten about Jack.

“Guess I've met the whole family now then,” he muttered, and Jack laughed a little.

“We really are.”

“What?”

“A family.” He gestured at Dan's leg. “Your injury – mind if I check up on it?”

“It's fine.”

“Let me at least see if we need to take the stitches out of it.”

Dan hesitated, but then shrugged. He had few qualms about sitting on the bed in his boxers and letting Jack inspect the wound; he'd been poked and prodded around by enough people in the last few years that it didn't matter much to him as long as they were genuinely trying to help.

As Jack, indeed, seemed to be; he tutted over the wound before seeming to decide it needed more time to heal and rubbing some sort of gel on it.

“You the team doctor as well then?” Dan asked after a bit, and Jack shook his head.

“No. Well, sort of. We have actual doctors who help us out quite a bit when we need them. People who owe us, who we've assisted in the past. They can even get us – or our people – into hospitals, God forbid we should need them. But when you're out there it's good to know a bit at least, in case something goes wrong, and I've made a point of that more than the others.” He gave a brief smile. “Ray and Gavin really need to learn to at least do field stitches properly. They're clumsy as fuck.”

Dan remembered what Gavin had said about regular people around the city being in league with Geoff's gang for protection. Ordinary civilians; doctors, nurses, who had been forced to take a side in all this despite not being involved in crime at all.

_What the fuck even is this city?_

Jack finished at his leg and pulled back. He began to pack up the medkit, and Dan thought that would be the end of it, when abruptly Jack began to speak again. His voice still oddly light and casual.

“I'm glad we've all been able to get to know you at least a little bit. And that you and Gavin could catch up some today. I know it has to be hard for you. Seeing someone you knew so well having changed so much.”

Dan could only nod. Jack looked at him and smile a bit.

“It's weird for Gavin too, you know? I mean, your values might not have changed, but _you_ have. I think he's been a bit taken back seeing you so _angry_ with him. I know you have a right to be. But you know Gavin. He doesn't handle people being mad at him too well.” He gave a fond little chuckle. “I don't think he's quite sure how to react.”

“Yeah,” Dan murmured, and looked away, pressing his lips together.

Maybe because Gavin had been older or Dan was just a natural follower, but he'd always been the more submissive of the two of them, the one who went along with Gavin's plans, who deferred to him more often. Even when they'd occasionally argued – and it really hadn't been often – they'd usually just ignore each other for a little bit. He didn't think he could ever remember shouting at Gavin like he had the last few days. Or Gavin blowing up at him the way he finally had under the bridge. Both of them had just been used to the other being _there_ , been confident that they loved each other enough to never want to properly fight.

Suddenly he felt uncomfortable, didn't like the way Jack was still looking at him with an odd gentleness, like he was waiting for him to come to some conclusion.

“Is it your turn to give me the 'we're not good people but things aren't black and white here' spiel?” Dan asked, rather sourly.

Jack just shrugged. “It's all we have to offer you. What do you want to do here, Dan? Clean up the whole city? That's not going to happen. Maybe if you go back to London it's an option, but even then you'll be tangled up with our case. It sucks but it's true.”

“So you're saying I should just give up.”

“No. Of course not. But I'm saying your ideals might not last forever.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that Gavin didn't just suddenly, deliberately give up everything he believes in. That none of us ever got into this for the fun of it. The fact that you still believe you can do so much good is admirable, but it's unrealistic.” He gave a sad sort of smile. “Maybe we're all just terribly jaded. But Achievement City is the cemetery of heroes. No one who stays any length of time can escape either giving up or becoming part of what's here. You can't change anything and Gavin knows it.”

“So you make things worse,” Dan said, mocking to cover his lurking unease.

“So you take care of your own,” Jack replied, almost tenderly. “You hold on to what you have.”

He reached out and clasped Dan's knee for a moment, his grip warm and easy, oddly almost reassuring. Dan looked down at his hand and Jack pulled away, moving over off to the door. Dan didn't watch him go.

He sighed as he moved to pull his jeans back on.

Things were just getting more and more mixed up. Every time he met another of the Fake AH Crew he was torn between remembering all the terrible things they'd done, and simultaneously seeing that it was somehow more complicated than all that.

They hadn't once expressed regret for what they'd done. And Dan _knew_ they enjoyed it. But the glee they held wasn't sadistic, and it obviously wasn't based around stepping on the little people, the helpless, the way many of the other criminals Dan had seen had been.

That was one relief at least. But at the core this was still _bad_ , still _wrong_ , and what Jack had said – about expecting Dan to get caught up in what seemed to be the AC attitude too – unsettled him, filled him with some sort of lurking dread.

 

* * *

 

Gavin came in again that night and sat and watched him eat.

“I've met all your boyfriends now,” Dan spoke up after a bit.

Gavin glanced up. “Oh?” There was a tentative nervousness in his voice.

“Weird to think of you with them,” Dan said. “I don't think I ever really saw you properly date someone before.”

“Unlike you with your legions of cross-eyed girls-”

“Oh _shut up_ , that is _not_ true-”

“There is _photographic evidence_ ,” Gavin cried, gleefully. “Every one of them, Dan, every single one of them-”

He started crossing his own eyes and Dan indignantly threw a crouton at him. Gavin attempted to catch it in his mouth and nearly fell out of his chair, making a rather shrill squawking noise as he struggled to regain his balance. Dan couldn't quite help his laugh, and saw Gavin smile, too, face relaxing into something more familiar and intimate.

Dan sobered a little, though, as another thought hit him.

“Jack showed me his face,” he said. “He keeps it secret like you do. I know that means you guys aren't letting me out of here. Not when I know that now.”

Gavin's smile faded.

“He wanted to meet you, and not with a mask on,” he said quietly. “Geoff wasn't too keen on it but Jack insisted. And I mean, yeah, he hides his face too, but we... we're not gonna just lock you up here forever. We'll sort something out.”

There was a pause, and then Gavin swallowed.

“You...” he trailed off, but pushed on. “Would you tell Coal about me?”

It was the first time he'd directly tried to gauge where Dan's head was at, and Dan felt rather on the spot.

“I don't know,” he admitted, and Gavin looked simultaneously relieved and disappointed.

“Anyway, you have time to think about it,” he replied. “We're going out of town for a bit soon for a job, so we'll leave you here. Our guys will take care of you, though, you'll be right. Maybe us going away will give you some space to... work things out. I don't know.”

 _A job?_ Dan thought. Gavin had let it slip out almost without realising that he'd given away the crew were planning something – something _big_ if it was taking them right out of AC.

They were still doing this shit then; even with him here Gavin was going to carry on with his criminal activity quite happily. It was everything Dan had been sent here to try and _stop_ -

And that, combined with what Jack had told him, had him suddenly worried and furious with himself.

 _Your ideals might not last forever_. That thought, that he might let himself slip the way Gavin had – he wouldn't, _couldn't_ , but he _had_ been, by sitting here, by laughing and smiling with him, by growing complacent, by letting himself start to think they could just go back to how they were without Gavin changing-

And maybe everything he'd seen was catching up to him a bit, seeing just how bad this city was, his suspicions about Mike and Coal, but-

But-

Suddenly he was terrified of that change he could already feel starting in himself. He felt an abrupt need to strike back, to prove to himself that he wasn't all as bad as that. And even as he forced a nod for Gavin – continued to eat, picked up a conversation about something else entirely, something innocent, the differences between here and England, how it had been weird to adjust – it wouldn't leave his head.

“Goodnight,” Gavin said, before he left; it had become pretty much an indicator that he wouldn't be back in that night.

“Goodnight,” Dan replied, and made himself smile even if his heart was suddenly thundering. All he could think of was that he'd been softening, softening, letting himself grow close to Gavin again and he _knew_ if this kept up he'd start second-guessing himself, start slipping up, start letting go of his principles as well.

He couldn't let that happen.

He watched the door lock automatically behind Gavin and remembered how he had shoved the keycard into his pocket when he came in the way he always did, and thought, with a new determination, that for his own sake-

For the sake of everything he'd worked for-

_I have to get out of here. I have to escape._

 

* * *

* * *

 

“Gav... Gavvy... wake up buddy, you're gonna be sore sleeping like that.”

Gavin groaned as he cracked his eyes open to find Geoff's face swimming into view in front of him. He registered a faint, dull ache in the back of his neck and sat up to find he'd fallen asleep slumped over at the table in the observation room. His gaze automatically went to the window where he could see, in the dim darkness, the shape of Dan sleeping in the bed.

A mug of tea was set down at his elbow and he turned to see Ryan, smiling at him. It hit him suddenly that he hadn't seen him bare-faced in a while – mostly because he hadn't been home, had spent the last few days almost entirely at the base where Ryan generally wore his mask.

“Sleep alright?” Geoff asked, leaning against the table next to him.

Gavin nodded as he sipped the tea gratefully. “Yeah, fine. Thanks.”

Ryan smiled again and leaned forward to try and fix Gavin's hair, tutting as he carded his fingers through the stiff strands. “You need to go home and wash your hair properly, not keep using the crappy shower here.”

“Ryan, how dare you insult my personal hygiene Ryan.”

“Dude, you've built up so much hair spray that the next time Dan comes near you with a cigarette you'll ignite on the spot.”

Gavin chuckled, grin widening when Ryan leaned in and kissed his forehead. He looked around for the others and frowned a bit when he found no sign of them.

“Group meeting in an hour,” Geoff said, noticing. “We need to finalise the heist plan. We're heading out tomorrow night, remember?”

“Yeah,” Gavin said, and glanced towards the window again. Ryan followed his gaze.

“Why do you stay here every night?” he asked quietly. “He's not going anywhere.”

“I don't know,” Gavin admitted.

“Staring at him creepily through the window while he sleeps isn't gonna help,” Geoff added, and Gavin made a noise of protest.

“I'm not _creepily watching him sleep_ ,” he said indignantly. “I just... I don't know.”

“It's fine,” Ryan assured him. “You don't need to explain anything to us. Just... come home tonight, will you? We miss all being together. Especially before this big job.”

Gavin nodded, and caught Geoff smiling as he turned away.

“You hurry up and go eat now,” Geoff ordered. “We have a lot to do today.”

Gavin nodded, downing the rest of the tea and stretching his neck as he stood. He glanced back over his shoulder as he left and caught Ryan moving up beside Geoff as he looked through the window into the cell, pulling an arm in around his waist. He frowned as he realised he'd been on his own enough the last few days that he wasn't sure where his boyfriends' heads were at. Wondered at what they were thinking.

 

* * *

 

Things were going better with Dan.

Or so Gavin thought, anyway. He wasn't quite sure. He left the room after bringing the other man some food feeling more confused than ever; Dan had greeted him quite happily this morning, seeming almost glad to see him, but Gavin wasn't sure whether he should be getting his hopes up or not.

Yesterday their conversations had taken a friendlier turn as they caught up more on what each other had been doing the last few months, rather than focusing on the bad things. And he thought maybe Dan was starting to see him as himself again.

But he knew Dan still wouldn't be able to give everything up for him as easily as all that.

Still. Once they were back from the heist they'd have more time to work things out, or he hoped so, anyway.

Ray and Michael caught him on the way out from the room as he headed to where they were holding their group meeting.

“How is he this morning then?” Ray asked.

“Good I think,” Gavin replied. “He seemed glad to see me. I think.”

“You don't usually have so much trouble reading people,” Michael commented.

Gavin frowned. “I know. It's strange, Dan used to be really open. Wore his heart on his sleeve or whatever. Straight-up, you know, I never... he never really used to be able to hide what he was feeling from me. But since he came back he's... different, he's a lot more...”

He struggled to find a word, and Ray piped up with, “Sneaky?”

“Guarded,” Gavin settled on, and Michael nodded.

“He probably thinks the same about you, y'know,” he pointed out, reaching out to jostle Gavin's shoulder. “When we were in there... well, I wouldn't say he was friendly, but he definitely seemed curious. So, y'know... just keep it up. Get to know each other again. Maybe this can work out.”

“Did you like him?” Gavin asked. It came out without him even really thinking about it.

He hadn't realised until now that that was important to him. Not just that Dan should like his boyfriends – which, _ha_ , that probably wouldn't happen for a while, but as long as he got it into his head that they weren't the monsters he obviously thought they were, Gavin would take it – but that the others should like Dan too. Shouldn't judge him the way they automatically judged every other cop in the city, most of whom fell by the wayside shortly after arriving in AC anyway.

Ray and Michael exchanged a glance, then Ray nodded.

“Yeah Gav,” he said. “We liked him.”

Gavin gave him a suspicious look, but he seemed earnest enough. Michael huffed out something like a laugh.

“We obviously have a bad rep with him. But it's sort of... admirable. Dear noble Dan caught up in all this crap. It'd be pretty mean for us to dislike him for something that's more our fault than his. And he seems like a decent guy. So, y'know, as long as he's not ratting us out to the police, he's alright in my book.”

“Just alright,” Gavin began, and Michael laughed again, reaching out to pull one arm around Gavin and the other around Ray, tugging them both in against his sides.

“Look, I promise once we steal this fucking artwork I'll spend more time with him. Ray and I will win him over with our ineffable charm.”

“Damn straight,” Ray said.

“More like scare him off forever,” Gavin huffed.

“Hey, we won you over, didn't we?” Michael teased.

“Gavin was practically in love with you from the start,” Ray pointed out. “There was little winning over involved. If anything Gavin was that one that had to win _me_ over.”

“It's not my fault you didn't like my bacon scarf when we first met,” Gavin muttered. “You party pooper.”  
  
“It wasn't the scarf, it was the fact that you were drunk off your ass while carrying a loaded gun,” Ray replied, rolling his eyes. “That _plus_ the bacon scarf made me think you might be a bit of a wanker.”

“Whereas now we know he's _definitely_ a bit of a wanker,” Michael said, and Gavin squawked in protest as the others laughed at his expense.

They headed into the boardroom to find the others already waiting; Jack smiling when he saw the three of them joking about with each other. The heist plans were laid out on the table and they quickly moved to join the circle, that buzz of anticipation settling in around them again.

 _Leaving tomorrow_. Gavin had been so preoccupied with Dan that he'd barely found the time to feel excited about what they were doing again, but it came back to him now. It'd probably be good for him to get some space from Dan as well.

“Okay guys,” Geoff said, ushering them into silence. “Tomorrow night we're out to the next city. The heist is the day after that. Point of interception with the truck is this freeway here, with luck, and that should take place at about twelve in the afternoon, give or take, depending on, y'know. Traffic and all that jazz.”

“Do we have the giant ass magnet?” Ray asked.

Geoff nodded. “Yes, and it is even more giant and ass than we could have hoped for.”

“You tested it already?” Gavin asked, and Jack was the one who nodded this time.

“Ryan and I took the cargobob out yesterday and made sure it all worked. It's perfectly possible to pick up an armoured van with it and carry it high enough to get it on the roof of a building. Our big problem is then disconnecting it.”

“So we're thinking we're gonna have to keep the bob in the air while Michael gets into the van and gets the art out, then we'll ditch the entire thing, magnet and all, for the escape,” Geoff continued. “The city change means the meeting point is now at this building here.” He pointed to the big observation tower, one of the tallest buildings in the city – though not so tall as to be hard to get the cargobob up there – which had a wide, flat circular roof, perfect to land on.

“Jack's flying. Ryan, you'll be riding with Jack to play cover. The rest of us will be on the ground stopping the thing. Michael, Gav, the two of you will get in the front of the truck and travel up with the others. Ray and I will divert the police and then meet you with the art here,” he said, pointing to a building a little way from the tower.

“The strength of that tower is that it's so fucking tall and thin that the only way up is by those long-ass elevators inside. The element of surprise is our main strength. They won't know where we're going or that we'll be using the cargobob. Should take them enough time to round up choppers that you guys can bust the van and then 'chute to the next building over – by the time they get up there we'll be long gone.”

“What's our backup if the weather's bad?” Ryan asked.

Ray pulled a face, nodding. “Yeah... parachutes aren't very foolproof.”

They all looked pointedly at Gavin, who raised his hands in protest.

“What?”

“You're the _fool_ in _foolproof_ ,” Michael said, and Gavin mock-scowled, although it was true, he was not the most coordinated of them. Parachutes in general could be bad news.

“If the weather's bad you guys'll have to get back in the van and Jack can drop that on the next building,” Geoff said. “It's not ideal but it's better than risking you missing the building and landing out on the road or something.”

They went over the maps, the equipment, the routes back to their base in the city, again and again, learning everything by rote. It was such a huge job that no one wanted to fuck it up, and for a good few hours they studied hard, committing every back up plan to memory.

Learning the route so late had been a small hiccup, but they still had the element of surprise. The fact that no one knew they even had eyes on the etching was their greatest advantage.

Finally they were done, and fell into a silence. Geoff looked about at them all with a wide grin.

“I think we're ready, boys.”

“Hell yeah.” Michael raised his beer and Gavin clinked his own against it. They beamed stupidly around at each other for a moment.

Ryan pointed at Geoff. “Inspiring speech, go!”

Geoff laughed, nearly choking on his mouthful of liquor.

“Way to put me on the spot, Ryan.” He spread his hands out dramatically. “Friends, Romans, countrymen – nah, umm...” He thought for a moment, and then sobered up a little, the rest of them falling still and serious in response.

“Seriously, guys,” Geoff said, “I know the last few days have been a bit... up and down. I know we're all feeling a bit out of our depth.” His eyes caught Gavin's and Gavin stared back at him, intently. “Getting out of town, getting back to what we do, it'll be good for us. Get us back in the swing of it. And remember, no matter what happens – here or with Dan or with anything else – we stick together. We have _us_. The Fake AH Crew runs together, dies together. But hopefully not dies together. That would not be ideal.”

“Drinks together,” Gavin supplied instead, lifting his glass, and Geoff shot him a little grin.

“That's right.”

“Steals relics of incredible artistic, monetary and cultural value together,” Ryan said, flubbing it a little on 'cultural'.

“Laughs at Ryan's inability to speak together,” Ray cut in immediately, and Ryan groaned as they all burst out in mocking gibberish.

“ _Fucks_ together,” Michael roared, silencing them all, and Geoff laughed loudly and raised his glass. They gave a rousing toast, clinking their glasses together so violently that they accidentally spilled drinks on the maps and had to scramble to mop it up-

“Fucking coke, Ray, that shit stains, why couldn't you just drink lemonade or something,” Michael muttered, frantically dabbing with napkins-

At some point Jack pulled Geoff into a hard kiss, then Ryan; Gavin watched them with a little smile. The way Geoff's tiredness had faded away into something more eager now, something ready to spring into action. How Jack and Ryan kept their fingers laced together even as they pulled apart; they worked well together, he knew, would have each other's backs in the cargobob during the heist.

There were still a lot of last-minute checks and organisation to do, but before they could drift out Geoff caught Gavin's wrist and pulled him close, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Everyone back at the apartment tonight,” he said. “Last night in this city should be spent together.”

Gavin nodded, turning in Geoff's grasp to press their lips together; he felt the other man smile as he did, the feel of his warm embrace lingering even as they pulled apart and he went on his way.

 

* * *

 

“Haven't seen you much today,” Dan commented.

Gavin glanced over at him as he set the tray down on the table and they sat down as usual.

“I was busy,” he began, a bit cautiously – worried that bringing up work would have Dan annoyed with him again – but Dan just nodded, turning to start eating.

Gavin's gaze fell on the newspaper lying on the table. They'd brought it in so Dan could get to know the city more, see what was going on around town. And also, you know, not drop dead of boredom from just sitting around all day.

They'd had to pull out a few pages though, ones that detailed the ongoing police search for him. It turned out losing a detective who'd been loaned over from England was something of a big deal. The manhunt was still on and it'd been making it hard to get around recently. They didn't want Dan to see the article since it was such an awful reminder of their positions here.

“Good day?” Dan asked eventually as he finished up, and Gavin glanced up. The silence had managed to be almost companionable, even if they weren't really looking at each other and he was mostly sitting there picking at the edge of the newspaper and thinking.

“What?”

“You're smiling.”

“Oh.” He hadn't realised that he was still bouncing a little, excited to get going tomorrow. “Yeah, I... had a lot to do. Preparing for this job. Sorry I barely had time to check in on you.”

“I was fine."

“Tomorrow I probably won't have time to stop in either,” Gavin said. “We leave tomorrow evening and we'll be away a couple of days. But Kdin will check up on you and you won't want for anything.”

“Okay,” was all Dan said. Gavin couldn't tell what he was thinking, but fancied Dan seemed very calm.

It was making him a bit nervous, and when he got up to take the tray he managed to knock over a glass.

“Shit. Sorry. Butterfingers. Goodnight, then. I'll see you in a few days-”

“Gav.” Dan's hand was suddenly on his wrist and Gavin's breath caught in his throat. They hadn't really... touched, lately, at all, but Dan's hand was very gentle. His fingers warm where they brushed against Gavin's skin.

He glanced up at Dan and found his eyes soft, sincere, oddly worried.

“I don't know what job you're off to pull tomorrow,” Dan said, even as he pulled the glass from Gavin's hand and set it back on the table. “I probably don't _want_ to know. But whatever it is... don't get yourself killed out there. Okay?”

Gavin swallowed, staring at him, unsure what the words meant for them.

A small, almost sad smile tugged at Dan's lips.

“I don't want you dead,” he said. “Even if it would sure as fuck make things easier. It's been... hard, the last few days. Seeing all this, having so much to think about. But I... I missed you, and I can't deal with losing you again, so. Don't get yourself shot or anything, alright?”

“Alright,” Gavin croaked out, and gave a hysterical sort of laugh that quickly broke off into a surprised _oomph_ when Dan, abruptly, stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

For a moment he stood frozen, stiff with surprise. Then, like a dam had been broken, he hugged Dan back, clinging to him almost desperately.

It was something he'd wanted since the minute they saw each other properly in person. And God, it was all coming flooding back now, the familiarity of Dan's height, his broad chest and strong arms folding around him, so close Gavin could feel the thrum of his heart where they were pressed together. It was all of their hugs as children, when Gavin went off to college, the last time he farewelled Dan before he went off abroad – for a moment it rose up, choking in his throat and threatening to overwhelm him.

Dan was back, he was really _back;_ here Gavin was holding him again, warm and solid in his arms. He pressed his face into Dan's shoulder and drew a shuddering breath, half-terrified that he was about to be shoved away again.

But Dan didn't. He just hugged him back, tightly, almost frantically at first, before it settled into something gentler. One of his hands came up to the back of Gavin's head, nestling in his hair and clasping him even closer.

They held each other for a long moment. When they finally pulled apart, for a moment Gavin was almost worried to look up at Dan. But when he did it was just to find that odd soft look in his eyes again.

“Goodnight,” Dan said, and gave a small smile.

Slowly Gavin smiled in turn.

“Goodnight,” he replied, and couldn't quite hide the joy in his voice.

He was practically buzzing with happiness when he turned and left the room, the door shutting and locking automatically behind him. He wasn't wrong, he hadn't been imagining that Dan was opening up to him these last two days. That had been everything he wanted, more than he could possibly have hoped for – the proof he'd been craving that Dan _did_ still care about him, that it really was possible they could come to some sort of reconciliation.

“Gav?” Ryan was waiting for him just down the hallway. Jack beside him. “What's up? You're practically bouncing-”

He broke off with a surprised sort of grunt when Gavin slammed into him, hugging him tightly as well.

“I think Dan's coming around,” he said, excitedly, and Ryan seemed briefly surprised before laughing and hugging him back.

“That's great,” he said, stopping just short of actually picking Gavin up and spinning him around. “You'll have more time to keep working this out when we get back.”

Gavin nodded. He couldn't stop smiling, feeling far more hopeful about the future than he had in a while. It made Jack smile too, leaning in to ruffle his hair.

“I need to stay back to sort out a few final things,” he said, and leaned in to kiss Ryan on the cheek, Gavin as well. “I'll see you two at home tonight, okay?”

Gavin nodded, and this progress with Dan had him so elated that he didn't even care about having to leave his friend back in the base, for the first time reassured that maybe he wasn't going to lose him again after all. That he could go home and be with his boys and everything would be fine. Jack and Ryan exchanged a glance, seeming amused – but greatly pleased – to have him in good spirits again, and they farewelled Jack once more before they headed out to the car, Gavin wrapping an arm around Ryan's waist and pressing happily into his side as they walked.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Dan sat on the bed – turned in facing the wall so no one at the window could see what he was doing – and felt like the worst person in the world as he turned the keycard he'd swiped from Gavin over in his hands.

 _Oh God. I'm going to hell_. The look on Gavin's face – Jesus Christ, he'd been so happy, and the guilt was a lead block in Dan's stomach at manipulating him like that. But he forced it away, reminding himself that Gavin had probably done far, far worse to any number of people to get what he wanted out of them.

He had to act fast.

He'd wanted to wait until the others were away on their job to attempt his escape, but after Gavin told him he wouldn't be back in tomorrow, he'd been forced into action tonight. Gavin was the only one he'd had the faintest chance of nicking the keycard from, the only one emotionally invested enough to let himself get so distracted that Dan could slip it out of his pocket. He'd never been a thief, not really, but growing up where they had you picked up things. And now the ticket to his freedom was right here in his hand.

Still. He was worried Gavin might check and realise the card was missing, so he'd have to act tonight.

He was careful.

Hiding the card away in his pocket, he stood at the window and waved frantically for a few moments. When no one came in to check on him, he surmised that no one was out there watching.

Okay then.

He'd learned after requesting things a few times at the door – cigarettes, bog roll, water – that there was one guard stood out there at all times, always alert. They wouldn't be expecting the door to open from the inside. He'd take them by surprise. He'd asked Gavin the time earlier, as they ate, and counted down another hour or so in his head until he figured it was late enough that almost everyone would have gone home.

Then he stood by the door, pausing.

Again another wave of almost-guilt hit him. Oh God. Ramsey probably would want to kill him after this. And it would upset Gavin terribly to come back and find him escaped, to realise that he'd been played so easily-

But it didn't matter what Gavin thought.

Every second Dan stayed here was a second closer to him becoming weak, to falling into the trap of letting his guard down, of letting himself be _changed_ by the others, twisted into exactly what they were now, his morals, his ideals fading further and further away; he _couldn't_ let that happen.

Taking a deep breath, he raised the keycard and unlocked the door.

Things seemed to happen very quickly after that.

The guard outside turned in surprise, probably confused and not remembering letting anyone else in. Dan grabbed her and slammed her head against the wall, dazing her enough for him to strike her across the jaw and knock her out cold. She fell with barely a whimper and he reached down and took her gun, checking the clip-

( _I won't kill anyone if I don't have to_ , he thought, the idea striking him suddenly, horribly, that he could come up against one of the crew, that one of Gavin's boyfriends could stand in his way and force him to make a choice then and there-)

The corridors were dim, empty, as they had been when Gavin took him out the other day. He figured most people who worked late were on the other levels. He remembered the window and how this floor was several storeys up. Remembered the way to the recreation area and the staircase, and set off.

His heart was slamming his chest but he forced it down, forced his breathing to still and slow, taking light steps. Letting himself drop into professionalism, into that mood of alert calm that his jobs had always necessitated.

He was pretty sure he was going the right way, when a room caught his eye; it was the only one in this hallway with a light still on in it; a lamp. He crept closer to check it out, needing to see if there was someone inside, but it was quite empty, and his breath caught in his throat as he looked through the glass door and realised it was some sort of boardroom or planning room.

And that their plans were still there, laid neatly out on the table.

 _Go, go, you should get out of here now_ , he thought, but curiosity had seized him and suddenly he _had_ to know; just what the Fake AH Crew were planning next, where they were going-

How bad what they were going to do was.

Quietly – glancing over his shoulder every two seconds – he opened the door and slipped into the room, darting over to the table and skimming the plans. It took him a moment to work out the map – a neighbouring city, he thought, not AC from what he could tell – the documents would take too long to read, but he picked up a file of pictures and looked through them.

He froze.

An armoured truck. Pictures of the AC art gallery. And, printed out from what looked like various news sites, the Rembrandt etching that Dan had seen in the news all week.

He hadn’t exactly been following the story. He'd had far more pressing matters on his mind. But it would have been impossible to miss, both back in England when it was discovered and after he came over here, because _literally every fucking person was talking about it_. It had been an otherwise fairly slow few weeks in world news and this art business had been the most exciting thing in a while.

 _Jesus Christ,_ he realised, _they're going to steal the bloody thing._

As heists went it could have been much worse, but it was still such a terrifically _asshole_ move. And big, really big, he knew this would blow up not just here but around the world, this wasn't just a local thing-

But he didn't have time to dwell on it now. Putting the pictures back in their place carefully, he snuck back out of the room and continued on to the stairs.

The whole base was remarkably empty, at least the floors he was on, and things were going quite well until he reached the first floor. He didn't want to head down to ground, figuring that's where the most guards would be minding the entrance and exit, and figured instead that he would find a window and simply jump down. It wasn't too high a drop.

But this level was unfamiliar to him, and as soon as he left the stairwell he could hear voices and paused, pressing himself back flat against the wall.

He didn't know his way around this part of the building at all. He could see a window though, just down the hall from him, and he began to move quietly towards it – hoping no one in the offices lining the hallway were watching-

“ _Dan_?”

He spun around to find Jack standing in one of the doorways looking at him, aghast, another man by his side – one of the crew's lower-rank guards or mercenaries. Both of them staring at him in disbelief, obviously extremely shocked to see him out of his room.

Dan froze like a deer in the headlights; he and Jack stared at each other for a moment, equally startled into silence. Then he saw the guard start to reach for his gun and sprang into action.

He'd gone too far now, he had to push on and get out of here.

Raising his weapon, he shot the guard in the arm and the man crumpled to the floor with a great yell. The sound would draw attention, Dan knew, and he began to back towards the window-

“Dan,” Jack said, calmly; Dan was pointing the gun at him now.

“I don't want to shoot you.” He was almost at the window now but Jack kept stepping up towards him and Dan couldn't tell if he had a weapon of his own, if there was something up his sleeve.

“How did you get out?” Jack asked.

He was too close, close enough to grab Dan if he wanted to, and rather than reply he lunged forward and struck Jack across the face with the butt of the gun. The other man was so taken by surprise that he didn't even dodge out of the way, crumpling to the floor with a grunt as Dan hit him, momentarily incapacitated.

Dan took his chance. He turned and pulled the window open, put the safety on the gun and shoved it into his jacket before turning and climbing out backwards.

Outside it was dark, a bit wet – it'd rained lately, it seemed – being out in the fresh air again was simultaneously a relief and a shock. The cold night air hit him like a slap in the face and for a moment as he hung by his fingertips, dangling down from the window frame, he felt suddenly very dizzy.

The window opened into a car park below. Already hearing a great upcry starting up in the building, he forced himself to let go, falling and rolling as he hit the ground. The breath was crushed out of him a little as he landed, his shoulder hitting the hard concrete painfully, but he was only a little winded and before long he'd scrambled to his feet.

 _I'm free_ , he realised, a little startled it had all gone so smoothly.

But lights were already turning on in the building. He knew it wouldn't be long before they were after him and he turned and began to run, climbing over the car park fence.

He had no idea where the fuck he was.

Achievement City was so damn unfamiliar to him. The base seemed to have been some sort of old office building in a metropolitan area of the city just out from the CBD, but in a quiet enough avenue that there wasn't anyone around. He ran blindly down the street, barely registering where he was going, just paranoid that there was someone after him, that a car would pull up beside him and he was about to be snatched again at any minute.

But no one reached him – by some stroke of luck he'd lost them, had run in an entirely unexpected direction – and after some time running and running through what seemed like endless identical dark neighbourhoods he arrived, panting, in some sort of shopping area, most of the stores dark and closed at this hour of the night, but one twenty-four seven convenience shop still lit up brightly.

He was exhausted by now, panting and struggling to catch his breath, coughing hard as he doubled over with his hands on his knees. He glanced fearfully back the way he'd come but no one had pursued him yet.

Slowly the adrenaline of the escape faded a little to be replaced by some other, frittering nervousness.

He was out.

But what the fuck he'd do now he still had little idea.

First things first, though. He took a deep breath, gathering himself-

Then strode into the convenience store and called the police.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inconvenientfights made [an awesome playlist](http://8tracks.com/inconvenientfights/heroes-die-here) for the fic, thank you so much!! <3


	8. Chapter 8

“You're making me wet,” Ray grumbled.

“Down below?” Gavin questioned, and waggled his eyebrows vigorously. Ray half-laughed half-groaned, shoving at him.

“No, on my shirt, dumbass. Move.” He pushed half-heartedly at where Gavin's head – hair wet from his shower – was resting on his shoulder, but when Gavin gave a murmur of protest, wrapping an arm around his waist and nuzzling closer into his side, he gave up and let him be, picking up his controller and returning to his game.

Gavin watched the screen idly for a few moments. The flashing lights and rattle of gunfire were mindless, soothing, and he let himself drift a while until he got tired enough that he decided he wanted to sleep.

“Come on,” he said, sitting up and trying to tug Ray from the sofa; the other made an annoyed sound, eyes still fixed on the screen.

“Ray, come _on_. You shoot people all day at work then you come home and shoot people some more.”

“Whereas you annoy us at work all day and then come home and annoy us some more,” Ray shot back.

Gavin laughed, and Ray looked up and smiled a bit. He did shut off the game then, rising with a yawn and letting Gavin take his hand and tug him back towards the bedroom.

The others were already lounging about in there – Geoff sitting up, doing something on his phone, Michael and Ryan talking quietly where they were cuddled up together. They all looked up at the other two's entrance, smiling.

“Jack's not back yet?” Gavin questioned, and Geoff shook his head.

“Still working. He should finish up soon, though.”

Gavin nodded. He clambered into the bed and curled up next to Michael, immediately draping himself all over him.

“Help, I'm being attacked by an octopus,” Michael laughed, but his hand curled around Gavin's waist, pushing up under his shirt, running over his side before rubbing gently over the skin at his hip; an idle, soothing contact.

“ _You're_ an octopus,” Gavin mumbled back.

“Uh, no, you are, that was the entire point of the comment.” Michael snorted then, adding, “Also, I don't know if you've noticed it, but your voice has gotten ten times more British since Dan came back.”

“What?” Gavin sat up a bit, frowning at him. “Was I not British before?”

“Well, yeah, but it was fading a bit, you've been here so long. Getting it back is probably for the best,” he added, “It ups the charm 100%.”

“You think I'm charming,” Gavin grinned, leaning in to press a kiss at the hollow of Michael's throat; the other man rolled his eyes.

“The clients sure do. But nah, the charm died for me that time I saw you split your pants while attempting to climb through a window-”

“Okay, you do not understand how bloody difficult it is to climb through a _round_ window,” Gavin protested, cheeks flushing at the embarrassing memory; it had been one of the numerous bad first impressions he managed to make on Michael.

Michael just laughed harder and ruffled his hair.

“And you have gotten no less graceful over time,” he said, and Gavin huffed indignantly, burying his face in the crook of the other's neck. He heard Ryan chuckle near them.

A comfortable silence fell in the room; Ray and Geoff were still on their phones, and where he was lying Gavin couldn't quite see what Ryan was doing. Lying in bed like this he himself was starting to drift off, and he tried not to, deliberately jerking himself awake each time.

Michael noticed after a while. He grabbed him and settled him down, rolling him onto his side and tugging him back against his chest.

“Dude, just go to sleep. That's what the whole purpose of being in a bed is.”

“I'm waiting for Jack to come in,” Gavin explained, and Michael's grip around his waist softened. “I don't want to fall asleep before we're all here.”

“He is taking a fucking long time,” Geoff agreed, and made to check his phone again when, as if on cue, it began to vibrate with an incoming call.

“About damn time,” Geoff said, though there was no malice in it. He picked up. “Jack? Where the hell are you, I thought you were meant to finish up-”

He broke off suddenly, face slackening in shock for a moment before sharpening into something hard and alarmed. The others sat up in the bed, alert as they registered the sudden shift into business-Ramsey.

Jack's voice rang out through the phone, muffled and unintelligible, but Geoff's eyes darted to Gavin as he listened, and Gavin swallowed, a sudden cold trepidation in his stomach.

“Dan did _what_?” Geoff asked suddenly, something so angry in it that Gavin's stomach _dropped_. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling all his previous happiness and hope fizzle away, as with a sigh he and the others all began to clamber out of the bed.

* * *

  
“How the fuck did he escape?” Geoff demanded.

The room was empty. Part of Gavin still couldn't quite believe it. The newspaper still on the table, a jacket slung over the back of the chair.

No Dan.

The guard winced, reaching up to touch her head gingerly.

“He took me by surprise,” she explained. “I didn't expect him to have a fucking keycard. He opened the door himself.”

“Where the hell did he get a keycard from?” Geoff asked. “Who was the last person in the...”

He trailed off. Beside Gavin, Michael let out a groan of realisation and then turned towards him. Ray did too, and Ryan, Geoff, until all eyes were on him and-

Gavin couldn't breathe.

It came back to him swimmingly. How pleasant Dan had been. How caring. How he'd seemed to soften towards him, made him let his guard down.

And the hug. The bloody _hug_ , Jesus Christ – and _he_ was meant to be the manipulative one, but here Dan had gone and played him for a fool, with such ease that it was almost humiliating.

For a moment he couldn't speak, couldn't choke a single word out past the disappointment and shame rising up in his chest. Just reached up and covered his face, breathing slowly in and out for a few minutes – he forced away just how personal this all was in favour of attempting to school his features into a stony mask even as his hands dropped.

He reached into his pocket and checked.

No keycard.

“It's mine,” he confirmed, voice tight. “He used mine.”

“Gavin,” Geoff began, and Gavin rounded on him, a hysterical anger shooting through him at the other's cautious tone-

“I didn't _give it_ to him!”

“No one's saying you did,” Geoff replied. He sounded calm, too calm, but Gavin knew, _knew_ he was angry, knew he must be thinking he was a _fucking idiot-_

Michael's hand went to Gavin's arm, squeezing gently. He realised that he was breathing too fast again, that his mask had barely held up a minute-

“I'm an idiot,” he said, dimly. “I'm a bloody _idiot,_ I thought... he played me. He just... played me.”

Part of him still almost couldn't believe it; Dan had never been cunning by any stretch of the word, and Gavin hadn't ever thought him capable of such a cruel trick.

But here they were. An empty cell and a missing prisoner-

And Jack, hurrying to join them. Gavin caught sight of the swelling bruise on his jaw immediately, and his heart sank even further, another rush of distress so acute that it nearly made him feel ill.

“Dude,” Ray exclaimed, already rushing to Jack's side. He reached up, gently touching the wound, and Jack winced a bit as he tilted his head away.

“I'm fine,” he assured them. His eyes caught Gavin's and Gavin flinched, expecting irritation, but all he found was concern.

All he could think, though, was _Dan hurt Jack – Dan shot one of our guards – he could have shot Jack._

He thought he might be sick.

Geoff turned to Jack too, faltering a moment, but he hardened up again when Jack gave a brief smile, indicating he was okay.

“You sent men after him?” he asked, and Jack nodded.

“Soon as I got my senses back.”

“And?"

“No sign of him. He's disappeared.”

“Damn it!” Geoff slammed a fist against the wall and Gavin couldn't help but jump, too on edge; they all turned to look at him again.

“My fault,” was all he could even begin to force out.

Jack jumped in quickly. “No, it's not – hell, when I talked to him I thought he was starting to come around too-”

“I let my guard down,” Gavin barrelled on, ignoring him. “I thought I could trust him. And now we lost him. You were right, Geoff,” he said, turning to him. “I let him get too close.”

“I take no satisfaction in it,” Geoff replied, and held his gaze a minute. If there was anger in it, Gavin realised, it wasn't directed at him; Geoff could see, it seemed, the hurt betrayal in his eyes. That he'd learned his lesson well enough without needing a telling off.

“We keep looking,” Geoff announced then, already turning away. “Michael, Ray, I want you out on the ground. Check the whole surrounding area. Ryan, you're on security cams, maybe we'll be able to spot him if he hasn't gotten too far. Gav, Jack, we need to prepare for the worst. If he's able to lead them back to our base here we'll have to burn everything. Pack up and get out of here before the Feds come knocking at out door.”

“I don't think he'd be able to lead them back here,” Gavin spoke up, dully, then paused, reconsidering.

The city was unfamiliar to Dan, the base well hidden in a mass of streets that all looked pretty generic. At night and in the dark he likely wouldn't be able to find his way back come morning.

And it was one thing for him to run away from them, another entirely for him to sell them out to Coal.

But he couldn't trust those instincts anymore; Dan had well proven tonight that he _wasn't_ what Gavin expected. That Gavin wasn't the only one who'd changed.

“We'll prepare anyway,” Geoff said, and Gavin nodded mutely.

His shock was fading away to be replaced by a terrible _hurt_. It hadn't been real. Dan still hated him. Despite all the talks they'd had, everything he'd shared with the other man-

It wasn't enough.

The despair was quick to take over, but he shoved it aside as they split up to go about their various jobs. _Work now. Think later_.

* * *

  
Gavin was sitting in his office when Ryan rapped gently on the door and stuck his head in. He was just hanging up the phone, having been calling up a few contacts of theirs to prepare to remove all mentions of this base from their plans now that it had been compromised.

“We found Dan,” Ryan spoke up.

Gavin started to perk up, but Ryan quickly continued.

“Police already picked him up. It looks like he's back at the FBI Precinct. It's too late, we lost him.”

Gavin slumped back in his chair, fists clenching.

_Okay. Okay._

A sudden horrid anger filled him. He felt ashamed for it, because God knew if their roles were reversed and he was being held captive by Dan he'd've wanted to escape too-

But it had been such a cruel, cruel trick, to give him hope like that only to snatch it away. It was a kick in the stomach, a spit in the face-

(And hadn't Dan felt the same, he realised vaguely, to think he had Gavin back only to have that torn away from him too-)

He didn't realise he was shaking until Ryan was suddenly crouched in front of him, pulling off his own mask before reaching out and clasping Gavin's hands, enfolding them in his own.

“Hey, hey,” he said – Gavin stared at him blankly. He was fuming inside but outwardly he'd dropped back into calm, a defensive measure more than anything else – but Ryan was having none of it. He shook Gavin's hands, gently.

“I know you,” Ryan said. “You're internalising. That just makes it worse, you know that. It's okay to be angry.”

Gavin let out a choked noise. It was a bad habit for sure, not letting the others know when he was upset – it was something they'd all done for a long time, for their various reasons, had all struggled to let go of. But Ryan was here now, and he reached out and gripped the front of the other's jacket, clenching the leather tight in his hands until his fingers nearly hurt. The motion accidentally pulled Ryan's collar tight around his neck; he grimaced but didn't pull back.

“He tricked me,” Gavin forced out. And let the anger rise up, let it come out a little - “He fucking _tricked_ me.”

“It was an asshole move,” Ryan agreed.

“Everything he asked me – I didn't once lie to him. He let me think he...”

He trailed off, breathing heavily, anger turning to upset, and Ryan reached out and tugged him close into a hug. The motion was too familiar, reminded him too much of how Dan had held him – _a lie_ – but he couldn't bring himself to push Ryan away, and after a moment he hugged him back.

“I still can't hate him,” he admitted as he pulled back, the thought coming to him out of nowhere.

“That's not a bad thing.”

“It is. He's directly a danger to us now. If it comes to you guys or him... I might hesitate,” he said, looking away. “And all it takes is hesitating once-”

Ryan reached out and turned his face back towards him.

“For terrifying criminals at the top of the nation's most-wanted list,” he said with a half-smile, “We care far too much, and not just about each other. It's never made us weak before.”

“The people we cared about were never policemen before,” Gavin pointed out.

“Hey. You're good at reading people. You heard what Jack said. He thought Dan was coming around as well. Even in what I saw of him – it seems like it'd be hard for him to hate you too,” Ryan said. “So something must have spooked him. We'll work it out, okay? We're still gonna do everything we can to not have to kill him.”

Gavin nodded, and Ryan leaned in and kissed him gently before rising, tugging Gavin up by the hand with him.

“Come on then. Group meeting. God knows we need one.”

Gavin nodded again. Ryan had settled him a little; Dan's initial escape had rattled him greatly, but the fact that Ryan himself was completely calm had reassured him. Even if Ryan was irritated at Dan, he wasn't showing it, but what he did seem was confident that they still had some control of the situation. Gavin could only hope he was right.  
 

* * *

  
“So what the fuck are we going to do?” Michael asked.

Once more they were standing around the boardroom table, this time with the unhappy realisation that they were far more vulnerable than they'd been in a long time.

“We wait,” Geoff said grimly. “We prepare to burn this base if we have to. Our contacts in the police will keep us updated on how much they know. If Dan makes any move to lead them back here, we'll be ready to move out. But apart from that... we go on with the heist.”

Gavin looked up in surprise; Michael and Ray exchanged a glance.

“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Jack asked.

Geoff shrugged. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity,” he pointed out. “Unless we're planning to fly to the Netherlands and break into the fucking Hague, it's not something we can put off. If we don't do this now we'll have wasted a hell of a lot of time and money.”

That was true.

“Think about it,” Geoff continued then. “If Dan does rat us out, being out of town might be the best possible thing for us. They'll expect us to be here, protecting ourselves – changing all our plans – not stealing the fucking _Rembrandt_. It'll add to our element of surprise.”

“We _should_ be here protecting ourselves,” Jack began, but Geoff shook his head.

“We had back-ups in case of this. Kdin can handle things. So I'm calling it – we go ahead. Get our asses out of here, steal that etching and see where the dust has settled once we're done. Unless any of you wants to pull out,” he added.

No one looked at Gavin, but he could tell they were all thinking about him. He pressed his lips together.

Some awful, vindictive part of him wanted to steal the artwork even more now. Like somehow that would be a way of getting back at Dan – it was stupid, irrational-

Before he'd been too close. Now he wanted to get as far away as possible, if only for a little while, until the hurt faded.

Throwing himself into heist work suddenly seemed very appealing. Like the thrill of breaking the law would wash away the bad taste Dan's betrayal – perhaps an overly dramatic word, but right now he felt pretty damn _betrayed_ – had left in his mouth.

He met Geoff's eyes squarely and nodded, and a small smile spread over his boyfriend's face – the others', too, as they seemed to realise this little incident had only fuelled his resolve.

That seemed to be that, then; they didn't discuss it further. Michael and Ray left the room together, while Ryan consulted some plan with Geoff before heading off to continue preparing for clean up should Dan indeed lead Coal back to them.

Gavin was about to go and do the same when Geoff called his name, stopping him.

He turned a bit worriedly, half expecting some sort of lecture, but Geoff just drew him close, reaching out to smooth his hair back.

“You okay?” he asked.

Gavin nodded. “Annoyed with myself. But I'll be fine. I want to do the heist.”

“Okay.” Geoff's eyes searched his face, seemed to detect his underlying worry. “Look, I know he's a threat. But I talked to him myself and I could see he was conflicted. I know if he hadn't run it might've been one step forward, two steps back with him for a while. And despite everything I do get _why_ he ran. Am I annoyed as fuck, yes, but not _I-must-murder-him-immediately_ level annoyed.”

“What a relief,” Gavin said flatly, not very reassured by this; Geoff seemed to realise his questionable wording and rolled his eyes.

“I mean it. He sells us out, I'll have to take measures. But as long as I can, I'll still try not to hurt him. I can tell he's not like the other cops here.”

“Thank you,” Gavin said softly, and Geoff nodded, stepping back.

His eyes darted to Jack then, watching quietly, and another pang hit him at the sight of the other's injury.

“Sorry,” he began; when Jack immediately started to protest, he pushed on. “Sorry on Dan's behalf, then.”

“My face does not appreciate it. But I do realise he could have very easily killed me,” Jack pointed out. “He didn't. That means something.”

“I guess it does,” Gavin replied, looking away, and couldn't help but wonder, then, if that hug had meant anything as well. Anything at all, if it had moved Dan even a little, or if it had been solely a means to an end.

He swallowed it down, turning away to get back to work. The others let him go, trusting he would be fine, and he _would_ be, he knew. This incident had hurt, but right now he was glad to have an excuse to put it from his mind.

They had a heist to pull.

* * *

* * *

  
So it turned out Dan had not quite thought this through.

He had been so focused on just _getting out of there_ , driven by his sudden paranoia that he was letting himself start to soften towards Gavin again, a fear that he was turning to the dark side or what fucking ever – he'd needed to escape.

But now here he was, sat in front of not only Agent Coal, but also the assistant director of the Achievement City FBI, and several other important higher-ups, in a room that reminded him far too much of an interrogation cell.

Since the police had picked him up from the convenience store, it'd all been a whirl. He'd been whisked around – people checking up on him, getting him food despite his protests that he was fine, running him over for any injury. He hadn't realised there'd been such a huge manhunt for him, but it turned out that losing someone who'd been loaned over to you from another country was something of a big deal. Mike had raised the alarm that he'd been kidnapped by the Fake AH Crew and Coal had taken it as a personal affront and poured every resource he could into finding him.

And now here he was, back in the precinct, wondering what the hell he was going to tell them. He hadn't much thought about it.

_Do the right thing. The right thing, the right bloody thing-_

Except that was the problem, wasn't it; the whole reason he'd broken out was because he _was_ starting to come around at least a little, to see that the Gavin he knew and loved was still in there. He hadn't run away to turn him in, he'd run away to get _himself_ out of there-

But wasn't it pointless, if he still refused to do what he knew he ought?

“So you were kept in the one room the whole time,” Coal said. He was heading the questioning, which Dan was somewhat grateful for; at least he was a familiar face.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“What did they want from you?”

He hesitated, but the lie came easily; he'd thought of it earlier. “They somehow heard I'd been working on the Ben King case. Wanted to know what was going on with him.”

“You tell them anything?”

“Of course not!” he replied indignantly. Then added, “Ramsey wanted information, but he didn't hurt me. Seemed to think it'd be easier to try and win me over, get my cooperation.”

“And you were at one of their hideouts.”

“Yeah.” The building was big enough that Dan figured it was probably their main one. It struck him suddenly that he had the option of directly bringing down the crew here and now, or at least dealing them a hefty blow, by telling Coal where it was.

“Can you lead us back to it?” Coal asked.

Dan paused a bit awkwardly.

“I don't know,” he said, and rubbed his arm nervously. There was some truth in that, at least; it had been dark, and the area quite generic looking, and he'd run for rather a long time in neighbourhoods that looked much the same as each other before he finally arrived at the shopping district.

“You'll have to try,” Coal informed him. “At least you can lead us to the general area.”

Dan nodded, and Coal pushed on.

“Tell us everything they said to you.”

This was where Dan froze up. He couldn't make up whole conversations, but he also couldn't reveal the truth, not when everything he'd spoken to the others about had been tied into his connection with Gavin.

“I... I can't really remember.”

Coal looked confused, and a little irritated. “You can't _remember_ ,” he said in disbelief.

“Well, they didn't really say _anything_ , they just... asked me a lot of questions about King,” Dan stuttered. He suddenly wasn't sure who he should be looking at; Coal or the director, if he should be making eye contact. It was one thing to lie by omission, to go behind Coal's back, to trick _Gavin_. It was another entirely to be lying to the police's faces, under such intense scrutiny.

“Who did you talk to?” Coal asked.

“All of them,” Dan replied. He thought that was probably fine to reveal.

“Jack too?”

“Yeah,” Dan said, thinking to concede that at least. After all he owed no loyalty to Jack, not the way he did Gavin – but he thought of the other man suddenly, and how kind he had been helping with Dan's leg, and how he could have shot the man if he wanted to, but hadn't.

“And the frontman,” Coal pressed.

Dan hesitated again, then said, “Yeah. A bit.”

Coal looked interested. He proceeded to continue asking Dan over and over again what the Fake AH Crew had spoken to him about, pushing for details – details Dan had to try and make up, or decide what was fine to reveal. He stumbled through the questioning, trying to keep the focus on what he'd been working on in England, struggling not to suggest that they'd had any other personal interest in him.

Before long he was exhausted. It was still very late at night and finally one of the other men tapped Coal on the arm and indicated for them to finish up.

Dan was relieved, reaching out to drink from the glass of water he'd been given as he watched the men leave, muttering ominously amongst themselves. Finally only Coal was left in the room.

He stared at Dan for a long, scrutinising moment, and Dan struggled to look back at him coolly.

“Bit of an ordeal,” Coal commented finally.

“You're telling me! This whole city is unbelievable,” Dan grunted. “Cops getting snatched off the bloody streets. Criminals with contacts literally everywhere.”

“It's why we have to take them down,” Coal said to him. “Ramsey's at the head of it. Crush him and we can clean up this place once and for all.”

The words were everything Dan had been telling himself as an argument for why, exactly, he shouldn't be helping Gavin. But there was something in the way Coal was saying it – maybe it was because he'd been spending so much time about Gavin, seeing the little differences and cues in his behaviour when he was dressed to go to work compared to when he was just hanging around casually, but suddenly he thought it seemed that Coal was just reciting this by rote. Like he was saying what he thought Dan – and the wider public – wanted to hear.

Like he didn't really mean it.

Part of him wanted to press Coal further, ask him more about this grudge he had against Ramsey. But he remembered Mike's warning not to pry, and kept his mouth shut.

“Did you notice anything else?” Coal asked then, as he moved to hold the door open for Dan. “Anything at all – any little details that might let us know something about them?”

Dan bit his lip. Despite his suspicions of the other man, a guilt was still worming at his stomach at lying so much. Tentatively, he thought to offer at least some snippet of information.

“There was one weird thing.”

Coal perked up. “Go on?”

“I think... I heard some of the guards talking, and it seems like it's not just Jack and Ramsey who are in a relationship. It's all six of them.”

Coal froze where he stood, and Dan shifted nervously.

There wasn't much Coal could do with that information, surely. And from what Huang and Carver had said it seemed to be common knowledge that just somehow hadn't reached the police yet – if Carver had followed the smugglers up as a lead he'd've found it out pretty quickly anyway. By telling him now it might get him off Dan's back a little.

“What do you mean?” Coal said.

“You said they were close,” Dan explained. “But they're closer even than you thought. All six of them are together.”

“In one relationship.”

“Yeah.”

“Like a... a fucking six-way thing.”

“Yeah. It's weird.”

“You're God damn right it's weird!” Coal started to laugh then, almost hysterically. “That actually explains a hell of a lot about how they act around each other. Jesus Christ. What a bunch of sickos.”

That aspect of Gavin's life was still something Dan was struggling to wrap his head around. He watched Coal pull a disgusted face and looked away, feeling suddenly almost like he'd betrayed Gavin somehow.

“That's good to hear, actually,” Coal said then, and Dan looked up.

“Why?”

“If they’re together it makes them weak. If we catch just one of them, we can reel all the others in.” He grinned, clapping Dan on the shoulder. “You getting caught might turn out to be well worth it, Gruchy.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“I'm glad you've escaped of course,” Coal quickly amended. “And we've taken protective measures.”

“What does that mean then?”

“The police have sent two officers over to guard your apartment. Make sure Ramsey doesn't come after you again, since it seems he has such an interest in you. They won't bother you, just keep an extra watch at your door. Might help you sleep better at night.”

Dan stared at him, rather alarmed. The thought of having a couple of grunts following him around watching his every move was unsettling, but there wasn't much way he could turn the offer down – at least immediately – without it looking very suspicious.

“Go home now,” Coal said. “Go get some sleep. In the morning we'll hunt down that base.”

Dan nodded, mutely. Coal headed off another way and he himself made to leave the building. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned a corner to find Mike lurking there, waiting for him.

“Mike,” he sputtered out, startled – the other man pushed off the wall he'd been leaning against, giving him a wide smile.

“Dan! Glad to see you're alright.” He reached out and clapped Dan hard on the shoulder. Dan stared at him.

“Likewise,” he replied, “I thought they might've seen you and killed you after they grabbed me.”

“Nah. I ran for it. Thanks, by the way, for distracting them like that. I was pretty worried seeing them kidnap you. And then when we couldn't find you for days after. Thought they might have bumped you off.”

“Fortunately not.”

There was a slightly strained pause. Mike was staring at him and again Dan felt uncomfortably scrutinised.

“Funny the way Vagabond just appeared out of nowhere to confront you like that,” Mike said slowly.

“They wanted to know about King.”

“I see,” Mike replied, and Dan suddenly felt like he was getting a very bad vibe from the other man. He was watching Dan like he was suspicious of him. “And they didn't hurt you at all while you were in there?”

“No, luckily.” He quickly attempted to change the subject. “What did you tell Coal about why we were at that factory instead of where we were supposed to be?”

“I said we couldn't find Huang and Carver so we were checking other places,” Mike replied. Lying came easily to him, but he seemed uncomfortable too then, like he thought Dan was about to start asking why he, too, hadn't wanted to investigate that lead. He quickly muttered a goodnight and headed off, leaving Dan staring after him.

* * *

  
Returning to his apartment took Dan a hell of a long time. It turned out that the Fake AH Crew still had his keys, and his wallet with all his IDs in it, and the landlady had to come down and rather grumpily get him a new set. By the time he was finally inside it was dreadfully late, and even once he was in bed he struggled to sleep.

Two guards from the police were outside his door, and even if they were there to protect him it felt a little too much like he was a prisoner under scrutiny again. He lay in bed in the dark staring up at the ceiling and thought that by now the others must all have realised he'd escaped.

He wondered what they were doing. How Gavin was reacting.

The problem had always been a lack of communication. He'd wanted to be out of their control but even now he half-wished he'd managed to leave some sort of way for them to stay in touch, so that they could speak to each other on their own terms without one or the other of them being a prisoner.

Because even now, even now he didn't know what to do, and wasn't that just the story of his fucking life recently.

The crew were going to leave Achievement City tomorrow. Head off to steal that famous artwork.

 _You're as bad as they are if you let them get away with this_. _It wasn't just the criminals in your old town you used to hate. It was everyone who was complicit as well_.

Apparently that had all been a lie, for Gavin, at least. Those values, that drive to do better – it hadn't been strong enough for him to hold onto.

 _But you –_ you _have to do the right thing._

He had been stuck in this state for too long now, an inaction that was slowly driving him nuts. He had to do _something_.

 _Don't let's become them_. It was something he and Gavin had used to say to each other, because it would have been easy, so easy to grow complacent, to let themselves fall into the selfish, uncaring attitude of their neighbours. _Make it better_.

Getting out of there had been the first step.

Stopping this heist from taking place was the logical next. And maybe – maybe if he just bit the bullet and got it over with, he'd feel better. Like ripping off a bandaid he could prove to himself that he wasn't that far gone. Could progress from there.

 _You'll put Gavin in danger_ , he thought, but it was that or let the Fake AH Crew get away with something he could try and _stop_. And it was hard, and it would hurt to know he was responsible if Gavin got caught-

But it was the right thing to do, or so he thought anyway, and with that uneasy resolution in mind he finally managed to sleep.

* * *

  
“They're doing _what?_ ” Coal demanded.

“Stealing the Rembrandt,” Dan repeated, with more confidence this time.

Coal's eyes were nearly bulging out of his head. But slowly he began to nod, a furious look taking over his face.

“Of course they are. Of course they're gonna try steal the most talked about thing in the fucking world right now. It's just the sort of thing they'd do. Why the hell didn't you tell me earlier?” he added then, and Dan grimaced.

“I wasn't sure what it was,” he lied – it was getting easier, oh God, to think up these excuses - “I saw it in the paper this morning and remembered seeing it in their plans.”

“Jesus. And you said they're doing it out of town?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks like they think they'll have the element of surprise then.” Coal was grinning now. “We keep this quiet and we can intercept, take _them_ by surprise. Fuck Ramsey over on the biggest job he's ever pulled – it'll be _brilliant_. I need to get in contact with the police over there; we don't have much time to lose. The artwork will be there by tomorrow. You said they're leaving tonight to go there?”

Dan nodded again, and Coal's grin widened. He clapped him on the shoulder before bustling off, shouting orders.

Dan felt faintly sick.

He'd thought giving in and making an active move against the Fake AH Crew – _their enemies_ – would make him feel better, would resolve in his mind that _this_ was the side he was on, the side he had to stay on, Gavin be damned.

But even now-

Even now Mike, sly Mike, was there watching them all with his funny little smirk. And all the others too – two agents Dan could overheard discussing how they were dropping a case against Percival for no apparent reason – Coal shouting into his phone the way he shouted at everybody –

He might be doing the right thing but he sure as hell didn't feel like everyone around him was too, or if they were then they weren't doing it for the right reasons, and that _counted_ , the intention counted-

 _Cemetery of heroes_ , he remembered Jack saying. Even here in the FBI Precinct they were still in Achievement City and all that it stood for.

 _Make it better_. Gavin didn't believe it anymore and looking around at the others Dan couldn't help but feel a faint, worming doubt in his own stomach – _was it ever possible?_

_Was it ever real?_

Well, it was too late now. Coal was already arranging for them to head off to the other city, and Dan bit his lip as he realised that, for the first time properly, he and Gavin would be facing off against one another again.  
 

* * *

* * *

 

“You guys suck,” Geoff said, with a long-suffering sigh. “Avengers masks? Seriously? Where did you even get these?”

He lifted the Captain America mask Ryan had produced for him and glowered at it.

“It seemed fitting!” Ryan replied.

“How is it in any way _fitting_?” Geoff demanded, rather hysterically. “They _stop_ crime! _They stop the crime they do not commit it!_ ”

“It's irony!” Ryan protested. “That's the point.” And then, after a moment's thought, he lifted his Iron Man mask with a wide grin, pointed at it, and declared, “Irony man!”

“ _No_ ,” Geoff said, though his composure cracked a little as he stifled a laugh. He struggled to keep his voice stern as he added, “We can't look badass for one fucking heist, can we?”

“Nah, 'course not,” Ray cut in. “Not our speed, you know that.”

Kovic was watching them in amusement; Gavin glanced over just in time to see him laugh. He was Geoff's main contact here – part of a little branch of the Fake AH Crew in this city – and they were using his base as a point of operations while they were here.

It had been a rush getting here last night with so much going on. They'd left a couple of hours later than anticipated. But from what they could tell, and from what Kdin had been telling them, the police hadn't come knocking at the door of their base. They seemed to be in the clear for now.

 _So Dan hasn't ratted us out then, either by choice or because he wasn't able to_. He was still too hurt to feel comforted by that thought.

It didn't matter much anyway. They had to focus on what they were doing _here_. Despite their rocky start, they'd gotten everything in order and were up bright and early now, nearly ready to leave to go and pull this thing off.

The others were putting on their body armour, and Gavin, finishing up first, abruptly felt very nervous.

It was unsettling, because he didn't often get proper stage-fright about the jobs they did. It was often more excitement and adrenaline than proper fear. Suddenly wanting air, he slipped away and out onto the fire escape.

The weather was shit.

The coldness that had been building up the last few days had culminated in a miserable, overcast morning. It wasn't quite raining yet, but the clouds on the horizon were so dark they were nearly black, which didn't bode well.

He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and took a few deep breaths, watching mist stream into the freezing air in front of him. He tried to settle his stomach. _Just a job. It's just a job. You're excited about this_. _Forget about Dan for now_.

Hands settled on his waist and he jumped when he turned around and came face-to-face with the Incredible Hulk.

“Jesus, don't do that,” Gavin cried, bringing a hand up to press against his racing heart.

Michael laughed.

“I was gonna quote something,” he said, “But the only one I could remember is ' _Hulk smash_ ' and it was not very fitting.”

“Fitting for what? You scaring the crap out of me?” Gavin swatted at him and Michael laughed again, pushing the mask up onto the top of his head. His cheeks were very red from the cold and Gavin couldn't help but smile, especially as Michael stepped up next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders in a half-hug, slightly awkward because they were both wearing bulky body armour.

His fellow lads had been pretty quiet about Dan's escape and all. Gavin knew Michael was angry about what had happened, and could only be grateful that for now, at least, the heist had distracted them enough that they could focus on that instead of hunting Dan down.

“After how much planning we've done, it doesn't feel real that in an hour or so we'll actually be pulling this off,” Michael commented.

Gavin nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed, quietly, and Michael glanced over at him.

“Excited?”

Gavin nodded, but the enthusiasm seemed painfully forced – even if he _was_ , and he knew he'd feel more so when the heist actually started – but Michael had already caught on. He grew quiet, looking out over the fire escape for a moment at the thunderous sky, the impending bad weather.

“Ray and I were talking about you the other day,” he said abruptly. “About how this whole situation must be forcing you to... to wonder if it wouldn't be better if you did give this life up.”

“Michael,” Gavin said, turning to him. He grasped his face with both hands and looked him in the eyes. “I'm not leaving.”

Michael squirmed a bit. “Your fingers are cold,” he complained, and Gavin let his hands drop to his shoulders instead.

“I know you're not leaving,” Michael said. “We didn't ever think you would. But... do you ever miss it? Before all this. Being Good Boy Gavin.”

A humourless smile tugged at Gavin's lips. Hearing Michael make a joke of it did somehow made it easier to digest.

For a long time he'd looked back on his old self with something like loathing. He had been a child, a stupid, naïve child who thought that good intentions were all anyone needed.

That had all come crashing down when Dan died. And sure, getting him back had made him hesitate for a moment, looking back on it. But even good intentions couldn't fix things when they were so broken now. He couldn't go back, and he couldn't get _Dan_ back, it seemed. He'd thought things were going well there but Dan had lied to him and it left him feeling as sour and hurt and cynical as he'd been in the months after the other's death, when he'd been reckless and foolhardy and didn't care much at all about what he was doing.

“Good Boy Gavin grew the fuck up,” he said, darkly, and Michael gave a funny sort of smile, leaning in and kissing him soundly on the lips.

“Good, because I'd never have met you otherwise.”

“That is true,” Gavin said, and smiled a bit; because it was _good_ , what they had here, the six of them, it was all he needed. And it had been easy to forget while Dan was here, a constant reminder of the things that he'd lost, that he had new things now, that he was _fine_ here.

The reminder had new determination surging through him, and he grinned widely, letting the exhilaration of what they were about to do take over; he reached out and squeezed Michael's hand and Michael smiled at him, squeezing back before handing him a Spider-Man mask.

“Aww, why am I stuck with Spider-Man?”

“Because you're slow and everyone else took the good ones.”

“Why can't I have Batman or something.”

“He's not an Avenger, dumbass, he's a completely different thing.” He reached out and snapped the mask onto Gavin's face, adjusting his hair around it. “Ready to do this?”

“Hell yeah,” Gavin said, and meant it too.

The wind picked up at that moment, strong enough to shift their clothes and hair, and Gavin shivered, popping the collar of his coat up. The breeze brought rain with it, a light sprinkle at first that he knew was only going to get heavier, and he and Michael exchanged a glance.

“There go the parachutes,” Michael said, and Gavin nodded, catching his hand again as they headed back inside to join the others.

* * *

  
“There it is,” Ray said.

His voice was nearly lost in the deep growl of thunder that rang out over the city. Gavin grimaced, reaching up to adjust his earpiece.

It was absolutely pissing rain. Definitely not ideal weather for an air-heavy heist, but not quite so bad that they had to call the whole thing off. He and Michael were sitting in one car, parked around the corner from where they had planned to intercept the van. They didn't have eyes on the vehicle, but Ray and Geoff – in the other car – did, it seemed.

A crackle of static before Jack's voice rang out, the faint dull whir of the cargobob blades in the background.

“We see it. It's heading down the road. Pretty slow because of the weather, but traffic's light enough that we can hem it in.”

“Should we move now?” Geoff asked.

“Wait just a minute...”

Through the rain-spotted window Gavin saw the cargobob fly overhead, a distant little spot against the grey sky.

“Now!” Jack ordered, and as though a switch had flipped Gavin snapped himself from the slight daze the drumming motion of the rain and the warmth of the car had lulled him into. Michael put the car in gear and he himself sat up, yanking his mask down over his face and picking up his gun as the vehicle lurched into motion and they sped around the corner.

The Rembrandt was being transported in an armoured van. Gavin could see it now, heading along the road, only to skid to a halt when Geoff and Ray's car screeched out of nowhere and slid in front of it, cutting it off and forcing it to slam on the brakes to avoid a collision.

The convoy was exactly as Cwierz had warned them; one heavy armoured mail truck surrounded by three other cars and a motorbike, all of them full of security. As Michael and Gavin's car pulled around behind it, cutting it off and trapping it between the two vehicles, the guards were already beginning to get out. They had guns, as expected, but little armour.

All they had to do was keep the van still enough that the others could fly in and pull it out of there. Pulling out their own – much heavier – weapons, Michael and Gavin strode from their car.

Gavin's hair was instantly soaked; he reached back and pulled his hood up to keep the rain out of his eyes. The guards were exchanging startled glances – there were half a dozen of them, pistol-armed.

They obviously weren't expecting to see the fucking Avengers striding towards them, carrying submachine guns. Gavin's heart was pounding but it was in anticipation more than fear now; it leant him charge, had the blood racing in his veins, a jittery energy that he was almost bursting to let out.

“Stop right there,” one of them called out, pointing his pistol square at Michael.

Michael just tilted his head, raising his own gun in turn.

Geoff stepped up then, onto the hood of one of the cars, stance wide, gun swinging carelessly from his hand.

“This is a stick-up, if you hadn't noticed,” he announced, and then reached up and shoved his mask back, so they could see his face at least.

The guards paled, realising it was Geoff Ramsey they were up against – their eyes darting around at the others, registering that they were the Fake AH Crew.

Geoff waved the gun lazily towards the truck.

“Really not a good idea,” he continued with a crooked grin, “Bringing something that valuable through my territory.”

There was a radio in the pocket of the head guard and it was already crackling and whining; the man's eyes flickered down to it, obviously hopeful that the disturbance had been noted by whoever was on the other end, that they'd call the police and get them out of this mess.

But Geoff jumped off the car then, stepping towards them.

“This is the part where I offer to let you step aside now and no one has to get hurt,” he said.

The Fake AH Crew didn't shoot first on jobs like this. Security guards walked a fine line towards counting as civilian casualties, so they did try not to kill them unless they were being attacked first.

As it was, two things happened at once then.

The guard seemed to make a tactical decision for them to open fire and raised his gun, shouting for the others to do the same. Four of them ducked back behind their own vehicles, firing wildly at the four of them.

At the same time, the van chose to attempt to make an escape, and sped towards where Ray and Geoff's car had been left idling, obviously intending to try and barrel right through it.

“Duck, boys!” Michael yelled cheerfully – and then, as they all threw themselves to the ground, pulled a remote from his pocket and pressed it.

A small explosion rocked the ground under them as the charges they'd planted on Ray and Geoff's car went off, sending the van skidding backwards, the men in the front screaming in surprise. The rest of the guards fell backwards in the face of it – it wasn't huge, more of a shock than anything, but it had them down and the crew were already getting to their feet.

“Go, go,” Geoff said, ushering them towards the van.

“Bad idea,” Ray was saying, kicking the gun from the hand of one of the guards who was already trying to get up; another of them raised his pistol towards him and Ray turned and calmly shot him in the leg, keeping him down.

“'scuse me, love,” Gavin said, picking his way over another's dazed body as he headed for the van with Michael. The car was on fire but the van itself unharmed – the blast really hadn't been that big – it had damaged one of the doors, though, and it didn't take much wrenching for Michael to get it open.

The two men in the front of the van were disoriented from the blast. One of them made a weak motion to pull a gun but Gavin knocked it easily from his hand before dragging him out of his seat. The cab was higher and then man heavier than he'd anticipated and the guy's half-unconscious body fell on top of him, making him stumble and nearly fall over under its weight.

Michael snickered. “Need some help, Gavvy?”

“Nah.”

“Looks like you're having some trouble there.”

“Suck my Italian sausage,” Gavin shot back, dropped the man to the ground and reaching past Michael to yank the other guy out as well, throwing him down before climbing into the van himself. He could already hear the wail of sirens and felt faintly alarmed – that was much sooner than they'd hoped for – but he could also hear the whir of the cargobob above them, and before long it was pulling into sight.

“We're here to join the party,” Ryan said through the earpiece.

Gavin couldn't help but laugh aloud at the sight of the cargobob. The giant, round magnet hanging from the bottom of it was comically large and looked – there was no kind way to put it – really, really bloody stupid. As it hovered overhead, trying to get a lock on them, the whole plan just seemed so absurd to him that he cracked up even more.

“Back more, back more!” Ryan was shouting.

“Left a little,” Geoff added, guiding them from the ground. “You're nearly over it-”

“This is so stupid,” Michael choked out between guffaws, just as amused as Gavin was.

There was a metallic _clunk_ as the magnet attached itself to the top of the armoured van, and stuck fast.

“Got it!” Jack crowed, and Ryan, Gavin and Michael all cheered.

“Uh, guys,” Ray piped up then. “We've got popo on our back.”

Gavin leaned out the open door of the van and grimaced as he saw the flash of sirens heading towards them.

“Alright Ray, you and I are up,” Geoff said, and walked up to the door. He reached in and squeezed Gavin's knee, peering around him to look at Michael too. “We'll meet you lot at the building near the tower.”

“Got it,” Michael said, and Geoff grinned at them before slamming the van door shut and bounding away with Ray.

“Ready in there?” Jack asked.

“Go for it,” Michael said, and then let out a wild whoop as the cargobob rose into the sky. There was a moment of resistance – then slowly, the van lifted off the ground and they were swinging in the air.

Gavin's stomach lurched a little. He buckled his seatbelt so as not to be flung about too much then glanced across and caught Michael's eyes behind his mask. They were alight with glee and excitement. Looking out the window and seeing the city draw away beneath them, Gavin felt that great rush of exhilaration, the thrill that came with pulling off these madcap plans.

“Ray and Geoff doing alright?” Michael asked.

“They're good,” Ryan replied. “I'm helping cover them, much as I can.” A pause, then he laughed. “Jesus, Jack, seeing Scarlett Johansson's face on your fucking body will never not be funny.”

Before Jack could reply, there was a sudden commotion from Geoff and Ray's end, and Gavin and Michael sat up, alarmed.

“Geoff?” Michael demanded. “What's going on?”

There was a tense moment of quiet static broken only by rain and gunshots.

“Sudden flood of police came in,” Geoff snapped, abruptly, sounding out of breath and distracted. “They were fucking waiting in the streets nearby for us! We're pinned down, we might be a bit late-”

“Oh shit, there's trouble!” Ryan cried, and Gavin's head snapped around.

His stomach dropped. There were not one, not two, but _three_ police choppers pulling out from behind another of the city buildings, all of them making a beeline for them.

“How the fuck did they get those here so fast?” Michael demanded.

“They knew we were coming,” Ryan replied grimly; it was the only possible explanation, and Gavin's heart sank; the element of surprise had been their biggest advantage in this whole plan.

“Ryan,” Jack started in alarm as the choppers drew ever closer.

Gavin heard the crack of two gunshots from the cargobob as Ryan fired at the helicopters, but it was to no avail.

“I can't hold them off on my own,” Ryan replied. “There's no way we'll get all the way up to the tower with them-”

“Change of plans then,” Geoff snapped. “Backup building, land there instead – it's closer; Ray and I will meet you there. Go, go!”

“Going,” Jack replied, and turned the cargobob, wheeling around to head instead towards a different building with a lower, flat roof some distance away from the tower. The sudden motion made the van swing alarmingly and Gavin fell against the door, his shoulder bumping painfully against the window, stomach turning as they tilted dizzily this way and that-

Michael was half-fallen out of his seat – he hadn't put his seatbelt on – Gavin reached over and grabbed him, holding him steady as he fumbled to get the belt on. It clicked into place and they looked up and met each other's eyes again, this time full of something far more alarmed.

Things went wrong on heists; it was simple Murphy's Law. They'd get out of it, Gavin knew, they always did-

They _always did_ -

But he felt a sudden dread because _how could they know, how could they have known we were coming here – did Cwierz sell us out? Someone else?_

It was the _someone else_ that nagged at him, but he forced it away, concentrating on not throwing up from motion sickness as he braced himself against the window and the arm rest, holding himself steady as the van spun and swung through the air as they flew towards the backup building.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **t/w: violent deaths of non-main characters**

“If possible we capture them,” Coal declared. “If not... kill them. But make an effort. I'd prefer them alive.”

Dan frowned as he looked at the pictures being projected up onto the wall of the hotel conference room. Big blown up images of the Fake AH Crew. Nothing for Jack. Gavin's was just the sketch that Dan had described to the artist; it really didn't look much like him at all. The nose was nowhere near big enough.

But the intent was still there.

They were _targets._

The room was crowded with other police and SWAT officers, all nodding along as they glared around at the pictures – not just determination in their eyes but a rabid sort of _eagerness_ that made Dan suddenly uneasy. And for all that he was the one who had led them here, he felt suddenly, acutely like an outsider.

They hadn't brought many people over from Achievement City, so most of the men and women in the room were strangers – the local law enforcement of this neighbouring city. But Mike was there, smiling away, a smile that Dan could barely stand to look at anymore – and Coal was too. He was staring up at the pictures, his gaze raking over each one with a nasty sort of glint in his eye. Dan had driven over here with him and the entire time he'd had a grotesque sort of excitement at the thought of catching the Fake AH Crew. Eager, too eager – and Dan suddenly remembered what he had done to Michael.

He bit his lip as he looked up at the pictures again. The first time he'd been shown pictures of the guys when he arrived for his first day at work, all he'd seen was the destruction they caused.

But after meeting them in person – seeing them outside the context of pulling a heist, robbing a bank – he recognised Ray's grin under his mask and how easily a twitch of his lips could change it into that gentler way he had smiled at Michael. Ryan with his fearsome skull, glowering down at them all from the image projected onto the wall – all Dan could think about was how gently he had touched Gavin. The friendliness and even faint amusement in his voice on the few occasions he'd spoken to Dan inside the base.

And Geoff, too, the leader of this merry bunch – he was sneering into the camera in whatever photo they'd managed to get of him. But he had been nothing but pleasant to Dan. And the fact that he hadn't killed him, that he had kept him alive and well for Gavin's sake – it was a far cry from the ruthlessness his reputation had made Dan expect of the man.

He was _human_ , above all, all six of them were. If he knew Gavin had a story, a past behind what he was now, the other five must as well.

And if Dan couldn't bring himself to hurt Gavin – how could he come up against his boyfriends either?

_Jesus Christ_.

The entire drive over here he'd had time to second guess his decision to turn their plan in, and he was starting to feel worse and worse about it. His eyes went to the other wall where the route the artwork was taking had been put up – the artwork they were planning to steal.

_We have to stop them._

_Don't we?_

_Capture or kill_ , Coal had said. And Dan knew, _knew_ that the right thing would be for them to face justice but...

_But._

Coal's attitude, even here, was like nothing he'd seen in England before. Something was definitely going on. Dan had overheard him managing a couple of other cases and he was almost certain the man had been payed off by somebody; he was constantly dismissing leads and letting suspects go free – and even here, in this case that he wanted to close so badly, even given how personal this was for him and how much he seemed to hate Ramsey and the others-

Even here and now something was up. The Chief of Police of this city wasn't present in the room – Dan was quite sure he hadn't even been asked – and all of the men here seemed to be contacts of Coal's, people who knew him personally.

It was very suspicious. But he, a foreigner, couldn't tell if he was reading too much into things. If that was just how they ran shit in this weird, weird city.

“Go get some sleep then,” Coal said abruptly, turning back to all of them. His eyes met Dan's and he gave a small smile. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

Everyone began to file out and Dan walked along with the crowd, head down, not wanting to engage with anyone. He was far too preoccupied with his own thoughts because _fuck, fuck, I did not think this through_.

He'd panicked at the thought of letting the Fake AH Crew get away with such a huge crime as stealing this artwork. But now... now he wished he'd just kept his damn mouth shut.

_It might be the right thing to do but it sure as hell doesn't feel like it_. Coal and Mike and all the rest were making him so uncomfortable that he felt, if possible, even more suspicious of them than he did of Geoff and the others.

_Something is wrong with me_.

He shouldn't be overthinking this so much – things had always been so _clear_ in England. You stopped the bad guys. You put them behind bars and thought it a job well done.

But now his conscience didn't seem to be working as well as it always had. His moral compass was already skewed, even from the short span of time he'd been engaged with Gavin again. Turning them in hadn't helped at all, had only made things _worse_ -

And that only left him more confused and afraid than ever.  
  


* * *

  
The hotel the FBI group were staying in was located just at the edge of the CBD, quite close to part of the route that the art was going to take as it travelled through the city. It was an unobtrusive place, cheap but comfortable. Dan was just glad that the police guard outside his door was gone for now. Having them lurking outside his room constantly was the last thing he needed.

As it was, he'd managed to get himself assigned to the room closest to the fire escape, just in case. Just in case of what he wasn't quite sure, but he felt so uncomfortable at this whole situation that a sudden paranoia had taken over him, that he might need a quiet, easy way out.

And of course, because fate was against him, shifty Mike just _had_ to have the room next door to him. He returned from the conference room to find the man lurking in the corridor outside.

“Sup,” Mike said, waving.

“I'm about to go to bed,” Dan replied shortly.

Mike raised his eyebrows. “That's a good idea. Don't wanna be tired tomorrow for the big hit.”

Dan nodded and began to unlock his door, but Mike was suddenly standing right next to him. Dan turned towards him, feeling uncomfortable again.

Mike kept staring at him – this morning before they left, and again when they were at the meeting. It was making him very uneasy. The other man seemed to be growing suspicious of several things. Why Geoff hadn't hurt Dan at all the entire time he'd had him. Why he'd kidnapped him in the first place. Why Dan had been so complicit in Mike's own reluctance to investigate Huang and Carver.

“It's gonna be good,” Mike said slowly, “To catch them after all this time.”

Dan just stared at him, and a funny odd smile twitched at Mike's lips.

“Coal will be really happy,” he continued. “I haven’t been on the case from the start but long enough that it'll be really satisfying. How about you?”

“What about me?”

“You've been chasing Ramsey's contacts over in London. And the second you came here you managed to come up with more leads than we ever did. You must be really pleased with yourself.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dan replied, and forced a smile.

Mike tilted his head a bit, leaning back against the wall beside Dan. “You know Coal can arrange it if you want the frontman.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Dan snapped, a little too quickly; he regretted it immediately because he _saw_ Mike notice that the remark – benign as it was – had gotten a rise out of him for some reason. Saw that flicker of suspicion in his eyes.

“He stabbed you. I don't doubt he was the one that got the others to hunt you down. If you wanted some... _alone time_ with him to deal with that, Coal could arrange it.”

Dan straightened up. “That's not how this works,” he said stiffly. “We make an arrest. We bring them in. We follow _procedure_. Isn't that right?” he added, testily, and Mike raised his eyebrows.

“Does everyone back in England have a stick up their ass?” he asked. He pushed off the wall and leaned in close, that vapid smile still on his face. “Trust me, Dan, there's no point pretending to you any longer - here in Achievement City no one much cares. It's our job to take down these guys. No citizen is gonna shed a tear if we don't do it gently. Hell, most of them will applaud it. Don't concern yourself over _their_ wellbeing – why would you even care?”

Dan didn't quite know what to say to that, but Mike didn't seem to expect a response. He turned and entered his own room, Dan staring after him until the door shut.

_Jesus Christ... alone time... what the_ fuck.

Gavin had been right. Even the police here were corrupt as all hell.

And in the scheme of things maybe Mike was right, maybe he shouldn't care because they were _criminals_ , technically they deserved everything that was coming to them-

But it was Gavin, _Gavin_ , and something still didn't sit easy with him about Coal.

He entered his own room, shutting the door behind him with a sigh. The hotel room was small, clinically bare, the usual generic modernist painting on the whitewashed wall above the couch. A tiny bedroom and bathroom leading off a main room that smelt of carpet cleaner and kitchen spray. He headed across the room to the balcony and stepped outside.

The weather wasn't great – there was a crisp briny smell in the air that boded rain and the night air was cold enough to send a chill down his spine. He leaned against the balcony rail and lit a cigarette, looking out towards the city. It was too dark and cloudy to see anything much. This place was far smaller than AC but it had the same atmosphere; something nasty and unsettling to it. An ever-present, foreboding sense of danger.

The places they went shaped them. He knew that for a fact. The town he and Gavin had grown up in. And after that, Afghanistan for him, college for Gav –

And then the last five years Gavin had spent _here_ , in this terrible city. It was no wonder he couldn't change back to how he was.

_I'm here now too_ , Dan thought, and tried not to think about it, about how already he was starting to lie, and second-guess himself, and think well hard about siding with the crooks over the cops.

_Siding with them_.

Was there some way to warn Gavin that they were coming, to convince them to drop the heist? Not really – he had no means of contacting him, no idea where in this city they were staying.

He'd set events in motion, even if he regretted it now. There was no going back. All he could do was watch how things played out.  
  


* * *

  
“They have the artwork!”

There was a great commotion over the intercom. Dan could hear Coal shouting orders – people scrambling to follow – only moments ago as they monitored the van's route it had been stopped by the Fake AH Crew on the road. He had been separated from Coal and Mike at the beginning of the operation, sitting in with the chopper teams instead. Even now they were getting up and ready to go and he numbly moved to follow.

“Get in there and cut them off,” someone ordered over the earpiece.

Dan felt a little sick even as he got into one of the choppers and they began to pull away. Even with all their precautions the attack had been terribly sudden; if they hadn't worked out they were using a cargobob and gotten police helicopters ready they would have been taken very much by surprise and likely been unable to stop them in time.

As it was, thanks to his warning they were on top of things, and barely had they pulled into the air than they spotted the cargobob flying away.

“What the actual fuck!” the pilot shouted.

Dan did a double take.

There was a giant magnet attached to the bottom of the cargobob, and swinging dangerously from this was the _entire fucking armoured van_.

“What the hell sort of plan is that?!” another of the cops in the chopper snapped. “What do they think they're even doing?”

Dan was incredulous. He'd heard stories about the madcap schemes the Fake AH Crew pulled off, but this was on another level. Transporting the actual van through the air like that – it was swinging wildly about every time the chopper turned, a frankly ridiculous sight.

“What the fuck,” the pilot repeated. “They're idiots!”

“They're idiots who are _escaping_ ,” Coal screeched over the line. There were still sounds of gunfire and sirens coming from his end – he and Mike were on the ground team - “Cut them the fuck off! Ramsey and Brownman are down here, we're hot on their tail.”

The pilot swung the chopper around – the two others heading in from their various points as well, all three of them moving to close in around the cargobob. They got close enough to start firing – there were no built-in guns in the chopper but the police had rifles on them. It wasn't long before return shots started ringing out and the cops ducked back inside as a bullet narrowly missed the helicopter's doorway, pinging off the metal frame.

“Bet they weren't expecting us,” the pilot snarled, flying ever closer. Sure enough, the cargobob had faltered in its route – it had been heading towards the observation tower, the only true landmark in the rest of the fairly unimpressive city – before turning and redirecting.

It was still far away enough that they struggled to follow it as it had taken such a sudden turn. It ducked and weaved through the city and they actually lost it a couple of times – Dan half-distracted by the ground team over on the intercom; Coal was screaming bloody murder as, it seemed, Geoff and Ray managed to give him the slip – but eventually they saw it touching down on the roof of another city building nearby. The armoured van landed on the roof but the cargobob itself was still staying hovering up above. There were so many other buildings about this one that it was impossible for them to get close enough to shoot or land themselves.

“I'm gonna have to take you down to the ground,” the pilot said. “You lot jump out. We'll cover you from the roof if you make it up top.”

There were cries of assent from the others in the helicopter. Dan remained silent, even as he took his own gun out, and got out with the others as they landed at the base of the building. It was a large shopping mall – but empty for now, having been evacuated when the police began their operation in the city centre and people realised something was going on.

The ground team were pulling up nearby and they charged into the building together. One of the men was barking orders – stationing some men at the exits, sending others up to the roof – but Dan slipped quickly away, heading into the building on his own.

He still had a bad, bad feeling about this.

The Fake AH Crew was either going to go down here or get away free, and whichever happened, he'd decided he wanted no part in it. He'd done more than enough already, he reasoned, and things were complicated enough that he'd rather wait this out and see what happened, and then respond to _that_ , rather than getting himself deeper and deeper into this mess.

( _You're already in too deep_ – it didn't matter; whatever happened now he'd leave up to the police and the crew.)

He took an escalator up a level – hoping to just wander around until all this was over and hopefully avoid any sight of either cop or crook – but frowned as he realised that much of the interior of the building was actually partitioned off and under renovation, construction work left abandoned in the evacuation.

He'd been tuning out the voices in his earpiece but focused on them again now – someone was yelling for the choppers to “ _Get after them_ ,” which he presumed meant the cargobob had taken off again – but he could also hear shooting and shouting from the ground team, so some of the Fake AH Crew must be in the building still.

Then he heard the explosion.

It was close enough to him that it rattled the floor he was on, making him duck and cover his head instinctively as his ears popped and rang. Immediately after that though, there came a crashing groan, and he turned to see – at the other end of the mall – part of the construction work coming crumbling down.

_Jesus Christ_. If someone had thrown a grenade in here the whole place would be falling apart-

He turned and began to run for the nearest exit only to pause when he heard screams coming from the collapsed construction, only for them to break off with a gunshot.

It was close to him – very close – he glanced at the exit again only to pause, pained, some great wrench in his gut urging him to investigate, to see what was happening. Someone was over there, be it a member of the force or of the Fake AH Crew.

_Get out. Get out now. Don't get involved..._

He couldn't ignore it.

Stomach churning, he pulled his gun out and headed towards the site, half-dreading what he might find.  
  


* * *

* * *

  
“Some time this century, Michael!” Gavin cried.

“Shut the fuck up, man, I'd like to see you doing this.”

Gavin turned nervously away, crossing to the edge of the roof and peering over. It was a sea of cop cars and SWAT vans down there, and he could see the men already arranging to enter the building. They'd successfully gotten the van landed on the roof – the cargobob hovering above it, still attached to the magnet, Ryan taking potshots at the choppers to keep them at bay – but they were quickly running out of time.

He turned back to Michael, who was carefully planting charges along the door of the armoured van. It was a delicate operation – he had to get the doors open, but not destroy the artwork inside – and it would be a lot easier if there wasn't the stress of, y'know, the entire bloody police force coming to get them.

“How the hell did they know we were coming?” Jack muttered through the earpiece for what had to be the fifth or sixth time in the last twenty minutes.

“Doesn't matter how right now,” Ryan snapped back. “What matters is it's royally fucked us over.”

It was true; an aerial escape was the backbone of the plan and the fact that the police had known about it and had helicopters at the ready had screwed it all up.

Footsteps on the roof had Gavin turning, gun rising, but it was Geoff and Ray who ran up onto the rooftop. They'd managed to get here before the police, it seemed, and a great relief crashed over Gavin as he realised they were both unharmed, if breathing heavily and looking harried.

“Michael, you get that fucking thing open yet?” Geoff demanded between pants as he tried to get his breath back.

“Almost,” Michael replied testily.

Ray was already raising his rifle and heading to the edge of the building to start shooting at the cars below.

“That's Agent Coal!” he shouted suddenly, drawing their attention. “What the fuck is _he_ doing here?”

“We know fucking well what he's doing here,” Geoff shot back, alarmed; Gavin's stomach had dropped again.

_If Coal is here then Dan probably is too – Jesus, it couldn't have been him who knew about our plan, surely?_ He hadn't known where they were going, Gavin hadn't told him what they were doing-

But he _had_ known they were planning a job for today, and God, Gavin felt sick – his fucking carelessness might well be about to get them all killed-

Geoff was staring at him and Gavin forced himself to meet his gaze; Geoff didn't look angry though, just determined. He reached out and patted Gavin's arm before turning back to Michael.

“Michael, I need you to give me some good news right the fuck now-”

“Okay, it's ready, it's ready.” Michael stepped back, remote in hand, and ushered them across the rooftop. Gavin turned away, hands rising to cover his ears as Michael detonated the charges; they weren't that loud anyway, more of a sparking bang than a proper explosion, and he turned back to see the doors of the van blown open.

“You got it?” Ryan demanded, still up in the cargobob.

“Yes!” Geoff replied, already heading over – the others hurrying after him. He climbed into the back of the van and re-emerged with a black case in hand.

For something that had received so much fuss and attention it was much smaller than Gavin had anticipated. They all stared at it for a moment – the prize they had worked so hard for surprisingly anticlimactic – before Ray started to laugh.

“The fucking Rembrandt. We are literally holding the fucking Rembrandt.”

Geoff cracked a grin and then started to laugh too, and that set all the rest of them off – with the art now in hand a great weight seemed to have been lifted off their shoulders. Heists had gone wrong before and they'd always gotten out of it fine; this one needn't be any different. They'd nearly pulled this whole thing off. All that was left was the escape.

“Geoff, what's the getaway plan?” Ryan asked then, sounding much more determined.

“Cops're hot on us. They'll be up here in a minute,” Geoff replied.

“It's a big building,” Michael observed. “If we split up we can probably lose 'em.”

“Jack, Ryan, you cover us from the air,” Geoff said. “See if you can clear things up a little outside from up there. The rest of us will go down through the building, split up once we're in the streets. You can pick us up from there if possible, otherwise we meet back at Funhaus.”

“Got it,” Ryan replied. The cargobob detached from the magnet, leaving the van on the rooftop as it lifted into the air and flew off. Without having to worry about accidentally dropping the van they were able to manoeuvre much more freely, and Gavin knew Ryan had heavier weapons up in there he could now use to take the choppers down.

“Stay in touch,” Geoff added, and there was a murmur of assent through the earpiece. He turned back to the rest of them.

“They're gonna be after whoever's got the art,” he said. “So I'm thinking take it out, use the briefcase as a decoy.”

Gavin nodded, moving to take the case from him. It was locked with a combination code but Cwierz had told them what it was and he had it memorised. It was only a second later that he got it open, lifting the black cloth inside.

The etching plate was in a black bag, the print sealed in glass and wrapped in a cloth; they didn't take the time to look at them, Geoff bundling them out of the case and thrusting them into Ray's arms.

“You take care of this for now. I'll take the briefcase as a decoy.”

“Sure,” Ray said, and then pulled off his backpack and rather irreverently stuffed the art inside. Michael barked out a laugh.

“Dude, you can't – you can't just shove it in your bag like that!”

“I'm not about to carry it around. How can I shoot people when both my hands are full, huh?”

“You're gonna fucking break it. We go to all this fucking trouble and you'll just crush it in your backpack.”

Ray flapped a hand dismissively. “It's survived like a thousand years, it's not gonna break now.”

“More like fourhundred years,” Ryan piped up, “And it wasn't being carried through a _gunfight_ that whole time-”

“It'll be fine,” Geoff said, snapping the case shut again. “Gav, stay with Ray. Michael, you and I will split up.”

Gavin frowned a bit; there was something in Geoff's voice that sounded a hell of a lot like he was sending Gavin with Ray just so someone would keep an eye on him. The babysitting continued, it seemed. But Agent Coal was here, and that meant likely Dan too, and given all that had happened he realised that Geoff was probably right to take the precaution.

“Ready Vav?” Ray asked, and Gavin nodded. They headed off to one of the escapes back down into the building, Geoff and Michael to another.  
  


* * *

  
The shopping centre was crawling with police. Gavin's heart was pounding as he and Ray ran quietly across the food cart to duck back behind a cafe stall as they watched a bunch of men with guns storm by.

“We could take them out,” Gavin whispered, but Ray shook his head.

“Sound of shots will draw more. Looks like they think we're still up on the roof – let them go there for now.”

There was a burst of gunfire over the intercom.

“They're after me!” Geoff piped up, rather cheerfully for someone who was being chased at gunpoint. “They've seen that I've got the briefcase.”

“Where are you?” Michael asked.

“Near the exit. I'll lose 'em in the streets.”

“I called in Kovic,” Jack added. “He's gonna try get us some backup.”

There was a commotion from nearby and Gavin peered out from his cover to see another group of the police heading across the mall, presumably after Geoff. He nudged Ray and the other man nodded. They'd take the chance to get out of there.

They rose and began to run across the floor, following the exit signs. But there was a maze of construction in the centre of this storey – the escalators were being renovated, it seemed, and there was a great mess of scaffolding, makeshift stairs and white temporary walls blocking off parts of the area. They rounded this site only to come face to face with two officers.

For a moment they stood staring at each other, eyes wide.

Then - “It's them!” one of the men shouted, only to break off as Ray raised his gun and shot him point-blank.

The other man ducked away, running into the construction site – still shooting at them – Ray lifted his gun again to return fire when suddenly there was a shout from up above.

Gavin's head shot up and his heart nearly stopped as he noticed another SWAT officer standing up on the floor above, peering down at them over the open railing. As he watched the guy raised his arm and Gavin acted on instinct.

“Ray, grenade!” he shouted, grabbing the other man's arm and dragging him back. From the corner of his eye he saw a blur of motion as the grenade flew towards them and he had barely hauled Ray back than an explosion rang out behind them.

Everything went black for a moment.

He was dimly aware of being flung through the air. The crushing impact of hitting the ground, the breath pressed from his lungs and for a moment he couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't _hear_ , everything wiped from his mind except a terrible loud ringing in his ears.

It took him a moment to regain his senses. He'd hit the ground hard and everything ached dully – he blinked a few times, vision blurred with tears from the great clouds of dust that had risen up from the construction site, before rolling onto his back.

His eyes snapped open immediately.

The scaffolding was falling apart – he still couldn't hear, but he could see it slowly collapsing in on itself, metal poles and mall barricades plummeting towards him. Panic jerking him into motion, he scrambled backwards – tried to get up but stumbled and had to settle for crawling, frantically pulling himself out of the way. He dragged himself back and then curled into a ball, arms rising to protect his head as the construction crashed down around him.

Something struck him hard in the side and then landed on his ankle and he cried out in pain – the sound of his own voice breaking through his ringing ears. He squeezed his eyes shut, curling up further as he felt the ground shake as the rest of the scaffolding collapsed.

Then everything settled into silence.

Gavin gasped for breath and started to cough, choking on dust and the throbbing pain in his side. _Oh God_. His ankle hurt so much, a stabbing, burning pain. For a moment his head swam and he thought he might pass out.

_Don't you fucking dare. Come on, you bitch, get up, get up-_

He forced himself to sit up but cried out as pain lanced through his side. There was a heavy weight on his leg and he rose slowly to find that one of the temporary partitions had landed right on him, the sharp edge of it slamming directly into his ankle. It took all his strength to drag himself out from under it.

_Shit, shit, shit_.

He slowly moved his ankle and choked back another cry at how much it bloody _hurt_. The fact that he could move it meant it wasn't broken, though, and he forced himself to get up on his hands and knees.

_Ray_.

Alarm shot through him as he looked around for the other man. The construction had completely collapsed and the area was a mess of fallen walls and metal bars, half-finished escalators and a hell of a lot of dust in the air-

And screaming. Someone was screaming and screaming in pain and Gavin was hit by a sudden pang of fear.

“Ray?” he called out, only to break into a coughing fit again. He began to crawl towards the source of the noise, and after a few moments forced himself to get to his feet and half-limp, half-hop towards it.

He nearly tripped over someone lying on the ground and fell to his knees.

“Ray!” he cried out, recognising his form. There was a bunch of scaffolding on top of him and he pulled it off, reaching out to carefully roll Ray over. He wasn't the one screaming, but he also didn't look like he was breathing, and an awful fear struck Gavin as he felt his hand come away from Ray's shoulder sticky with blood.

“Ray,” he choked out again. He pulled him back into his lap and leaned over him, hands fluttering about uselessly, unsure what to do – when Ray coughed, suddenly, and then leaned over, choking and spluttering as he struggled to breathe. There was a nasty rasp to it that Gavin recognised, the creaking sort of wheeze that came with broken ribs. He pulled Ray back against him, supporting him and trying to ease up the pressure on his chest.

“Come on, love. You're fine. You're fine.”

“I really don’t think I am,” Ray groaned, his eyes flickering open and struggling to focus on Gavin's face. _Concussed_. “What the fuck happened?”

“Grenades and construction sites are not a good combination,” Gavin replied, overwhelmed with relief just to hear him _speaking_. “I don't think either of us could get out of the way in time.”

“Why cruel fate,” Ray said flatly, and then promptly passed out again. Gavin was briefly alarmed but quickly realised he was still breathing.

_Shit. Okay. Okay_.

They had to get out of there. He tried to lift Ray up but his ankle gave out under him, his own ribs protesting at the motion, and he fell back down.

“Fuck,” he breathed out through gritted teeth, trying to hold back the pain. Ray was small and light but Gavin was too injured to carry or even drag him out of here-

“Michael,” he called out, suddenly remembering his earpiece – but all was dead silent and he reached up and pulled it from his ear to find it useless and blown out from the explosion. He checked Ray's and found it much the same way.

“Shit, shit...”

Someone was still screaming and Gavin got up again and limped to find the source of the noise. It was quite close to them, and a few metres away he came upon the other officer who'd been in the construction site when it all came crumbling down. He had been so deep in that he was completely pinned under the rubble, and Gavin’s eyes widened as he noticed there was a metal shaft impaled completely through the guy's torso. His stomach twisted and he squeezed his eyes shut, fearing he was about to be sick.

The screaming was dying down a bit, blood starting to choke up out of the guy's mouth, and Gavin lifted his gun and shot him quickly in the head.

He turned and headed back to Ray. He had to get him out of here _somehow_ , and gritting his teeth, he reached down and grabbed him under the arms, attempting to haul him out of the wreckage. Every step sent pain spiking through his body and within seconds there were tears rolling down his cheeks, his jaw clenched so tightly it was starting to ache-

A gun clicked behind him, right by his head, and he froze. His ears were still ringing and he hadn't even heard anyone approach.

“Stop,” a voice breathed in his ear, and Gavin slowly let go of Ray, letting him slip gently to the ground. A thick arm hooked around his neck and dragged him back, then he was spun around and thrown to the ground.

It was the officer who had thrown the grenade – he'd come down to this floor to finish up the job, it seemed – Gavin reached for his own gun only to find he'd dropped it in the blast. He raised his hands slowly, acutely aware of Ray's unconscious, vulnerable form next to him.

It was rare for him to be scared. But things had gone so badly wrong that he was nearly nauseous with fear now, especially as the guy stepped forward until the barrel of his gun bumped against Gavin's forehead.

“You're in a bit of a fix now, aren't you?” he said, and Gavin's eyes darted over him. Something uneasy hit him. The man was dressed like a SWAT officer but there was something in the way he wore the uniform – Gavin had seen a hundred of them both up close and afar, and there was something different about this guy – he had a different sort of bearing, something just inherently _off_ about him. In the cruel, hard glint of his eyes and the way he was shoving the gun up against Gavin's head. It was more brute violence than professionalism, and it reminded him of a mercenary rather than a police officer.

His hands scrabbled at the ground next to him and he caught up a piece of broken glass. Taking a chance, he grabbed the man's wrist and wrenched the gun aside, stabbing the glass into his arm as he went. The gun fired towards the ground next to them and Gavin knocked it from his hand before tackling the man backwards.

They hit the ground with a thud. Gavin had moved first but the impact sent pain spearing through his side and the man had body armour on, cushioning his fall. Within moments he'd flipped them over so Gavin was pinned under him, grabbing his wrists in one hand and holding him still, his weight crushing down on Gavin's injured side.

He pulled a knife from his belt with his free hand and grinned, leaning in close, the knife poised just above Gavin's throat.

“My boss wants _Ramsey_ alive,” he hissed. “But he said nothing about his toy boy. The Corpirate sends his regards.”

Gavin barely had time to process his words before the knife was slamming down. Adrenaline leant him strength and he managed to wrench out of the man's grasp and roll aside. It missed his neck and stabbed right through his vest into his shoulder instead.

He cried out, the pain overwhelming him for a moment. The man was already moving to correct his mistake – he grabbed the knife handle and yanked it out of Gavin's shoulder, wrenching another shout from him as the blade tore from his flesh. One heavy hand was planted on Gavin's chest, keeping him down, but Gavin brought a knee up and kicked him hard in the nuts.

He'd fought off guys bigger than this, sparred with Ryan a hundred times before – being smaller and agile was his strength against brute force, not to mention he wasn't afraid to play dirty. The guy lurched back with a roar and Gavin managed to pull his good arm free and reach up to strike him in the throat, wriggling out from under him. He started to scramble to his feet but a hand closed tight around his wrist and yanked him back to the ground.

For a few moments they tussled, grappling at each other – Gavin tearing at the guy's eyes, mouth, throat as they rolled across the ground. Sometimes he was on top, sometimes the other – glass was digging into his back and the man's weight was heavy and crushing on top of him-

Everything _hurt_ and his strength was beginning to wane. With a final roar the man managed to flip him over and crawl up over him – moving up out of reach of his kicks – a strong grip closed around his throat and then the man was _squeezing_ , crushing his windpipe, forcing the air from his lungs until his head was swimming-

Blank panic closed over Gavin's mind. He reached out, flailing wildly across the ground for anything he could find, when by some chance his hand closed around a piece of the metal scaffolding; a broken off bar that he gripped tightly and swung around.

It hit the man's skull with a horrible sort of _crunch_ and he fell sideways, limp. Air rushed back into Gavin's lungs and he gasped, spots dancing in front of his vision for a moment. He pulled himself out from under the guy only to realise that he wasn't quite down yet – only dazed, he was already getting back up, and Gavin felt another shock of fear. Hauling himself up to straddle the man, he lifted the bar and brought it down again. And again, and again; exhausted, panting half-sobs tearing from his throat with each blow.

_Oh God, oh God, oh God_. He barely knew what he was doing, only that Ray was still lying beside him and there was a fucking stab wound in his shoulder and _everything hurt_ and _what did he mean the Corpirate_ and everything had just gone so terribly, terribly _wrong_ -

The man shuddered under him, then lay still. Gavin let the bar drop from his hand and lurched sideways just in time to throw up, little more coming up than bile, before he toppled over onto the ground, collapsing in a heap before rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling, panting, the upper levels of the mall spinning above him.

His hands were coated with sticky blood. He could feel more spreading onto him, soaking into his shirt, from the man lying dead beside him. Everything hurt; everything _hurt_ , he heaved ragged breaths for a moment, trying to calm himself down. To some extent you got used to it, the violence, the brutality, but having a gun pointed at your head – having the life choked out of you – _killing a man_ with little more than your bare hands – it still left him shaking.

For a moment he closed his eyes and struggled to just get air into his lungs. Each breath made his chest and throat ache.

Then he heard a soft footstep, crunching against the broken glass on the ground, and he bolted alert again, snapping back to attention – _not again_ , some exhausted part of him begged, he didn't think he could fight off anyone else-

Dragging himself upright, he turned, dazed, only for everything to wipe blank from his mind as he saw who was standing there, who had been watching for God knew how long.

“Dan,” he choked out.  
  


* * *

* * *

  
Gavin was a wreck.

Dan had arrived at the scene just in time into see him in the middle of some sort of wrestling match with what looked like a SWAT officer. It was a big guy, bigger than Gavin, and looked like he had been getting the better of him before Gavin proceeded to grab a metal bar and fucking _beat him to death_ as Dan watched, too horrified to move.

And now here they were – Gavin staring up at him, wild-eyed, blood dripping down his chin from a split lip – coating his hands to the wrists – shirt torn and dishevelled, ash and dust smudged across his face.

Dan didn't know what to do.

His gun was still hanging from his hand but he never even thought to raise it. Gavin was unarmed. All they could do was stare at each other in shock.

There was a moment of awful silence.

The last thing Dan had wanted was to come directly up against Gavin like this. His eyes flickered to the body on the ground and Gavin followed his gaze and let out a low, distressed noise.

“He... he was trying to kill me.” His voice was a hoarse rasp and Dan suddenly noticed the red marks on his throat, already darkening to bruises. “He was going to... to kill me, he wasn't police, he's working for this other guy- Dan, I...” He broke off into a coughing fit, bringing one bloodied wrist up to cover his mouth.

_Oh God_ , was all Dan could think. He still couldn't speak, could only stand dumbstruck as he watched. This was just – messy, messy, _fucking messy_ and there was a man with his brains bashed in on the ground in front of him and Gavin was bleeding and-

A crackle of static over his intercom. It was loud enough that Gavin heard it too and looked up.

“ _What was that blast?”_ one of the police on the other end said.

“ _Came from floor 2, west end of the mall. We're going to check it out now.”_

Gavin tried to stand up, fell back down, and crawled over to another body on the floor – _Ray_ , Dan realised. He started trying to tug him upright but failed, too weak. Every one of his movements was jerky and pained and tugged at something deep in Dan's chest to look at.

“They're coming,” Dan said – his voice dull. Gavin glanced up at him, eyes huge and _scared_ , Dan realised with a numb sort of horror. He cleared his throat and repeated, “They're coming here to get you.”

“I can't...” Gavin trailed off as he tried to lift Ray again. Let out a frustrated cry when he couldn't. He fell to his knees, head hanging down for a moment – shoulders shaking. When he lifted his head and stared up at Dan, he couldn't pull his gaze away. Gavin's eyes were watering from the dust and smoke in the air, leaking tracks down his dirty bloodied face. Down on the ground he looked very small.

“He's hurt,” he choked out, voice more raw and vulnerable than Dan had ever heard him. “Please... Dan, he's hurt, _please_.”

He could hear the police approaching, both over the earpiece and the approaching clamour of heavy footsteps across the mall. Gavin's eyes were fixed on him. His heart was pounding, slamming in his chest so hard that it hurt-

_This is it. This is it, this is it, this is it_.

It was the moment he'd been dreading. The moment he'd be forced to make a choice.

Gavin or the police-

Gavin or the law-

Gavin or the right thing-

Except...

Except it wasn't the right thing, was it? It was Coal, and Mike, and Achievement City, and all these damnable suspicions and secrets, and Coal's morbid lust for revenge. And these last few days – what had he seen? That the Fake AH Crew were human. That the Gavin he knew was still in there-

(And the hug, the hug hadn't entirely been a lie, no matter what he'd intended. To _hold_ Gavin again, to have him back even for the briefest second – he couldn't help that it had given him the smallest flicker of _hope_ -)

Was it enough?

_Make it better_ , he thought, and it seemed so silly now, so childish. But it had been all that got them through weeks and months and years as children, when they'd had nothing but that and each other.

And where had it brought them now? Standing here in the rubble of the collapsed construction site. A man dead with his head caved in on the floor beside them. Gavin bleeding and shaking and Dan standing with a gun in his hand wondering whether to save the life of his own best friend.

Dear God.

It shouldn't even be a _choice_. He met Gavin's eyes again and something hot and intense swelled up in his chest because _them_ , it was always them – the two of them against the world. He'd tried and tried after Gavin was gone but it had never been the _same-_

And even now, even now the thought of leaving Gavin there – it made him feel ill, made a creeping sort of shame start up in him. He'd thought his moral compass was broken but this, _this_ wasn't making it better, not for them and not for anyone-

And it was _Gavin_.

He stepped forward and Gavin's breath hitched a bit as he stared up at him. He looked so unsure that Dan felt another great wrench deep within his gut. He shoved it aside, forcing himself into action.

_Make a choice. Fucking stick to it_.

He reached out – Gavin flinched back a bit – Dan bent over and scooped up Ray, carefully, slinging him up over his shoulder before turning to Gavin.

He still wasn't sure about this. He still didn't _like_ it, really. But he didn't much know what else he could do – what else he _should_ do – and after a frozen moment he held out a hand.

“Come on then, B.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Dan,” Gavin hissed, reaching forward to involuntarily grab at his shoulder as they drew closer to their location.

It had been a trial to get out of the mall unseen, with Gavin injured as he was and Dan encumbered by carrying Ray. But they had managed, somehow, and had gotten down to the cop cars, whereupon Dan had 'borrowed' one of them, and then – for the streets were still crowded with cops and police barricades – taken them to the closest safe place.

The hotel.

If it could even be described as 'safe' considering how, as they now approached, Gavin caught sight of a half-dozen police officers milling outside. He looked over at Dan worriedly – the other man was staring out at his fellow law enforcement, jaw tightly clenched – but after a minute he turned and brought the car around, driving instead down the side of the hotel and pulling into a secondary car park.

“Fire escape,” he said shortly, nodding towards the emergency exit. “It's not alarmed.”

“Where will that take us?” Gavin asked.

“Right by my room.” With no further ado Dan parked and got out of the car, moving around to grab Ray where he was lying against Gavin in the backseat.

Gavin bit his lip. For all that Dan had helped him, the drive over here had taken place in a tense, awkward silence, and he didn't know what to think – or what _Dan_ was thinking.

Still. He was desperate – had no other options – just needed to stay on Dan's good side and hope to God that his old friend would continue to help him. It killed him that he was still faintly afraid that this was all some sort of trap – that they might be about to be handed over to Coal – the fact that he couldn't trust Dan anymore was painful in a way that he hadn't experienced before, even with all that had happened.

Dan pulled Ray into his arms and headed for the fire door, leaving Gavin to limp along after him. Resting for a little while in the car hadn't helped at all. His ankle still struggled to hold his weight, sending pain lancing through his leg and side with every step, and it was hell on his shoulder to so much as move his arm.

He got up the fire stairs with difficulty, clinging to the bannister all the while, still fearing that at any moment Agent Coal was going to pop up from around a corner and arrest them.

But the stairwell was empty, and the corridor it led into was too, and the minute they were inside Dan's hotel room with the door locked firmly behind them, Gavin slumped back against the wall in relief.

“Oh God,” he choked out.

Dan cast him a glance. He laid Ray down on the couch in the main area and Gavin's previous alarm at his boyfriend's injuries flared up again. He forced his aching body upright and hobbled over to the couch, collapsing to his knees at Ray's side.

He was breathing, but unconscious still, and Gavin frowned, reaching out to gently rub a smudge of blood from his cheek.

“Get his shirt off,” Dan said. His voice was still blunt, carefully professional.

Gavin moved silently to obey. In his peripheral he glimpsed Dan moving into the bedroom nearby. Gently he pulled Ray's body armour and jacket off, then his shirt and vest over his head, grimacing at how ragdoll-limp he remained throughout.

He winced as he surveyed the damage. Shrapnel from the construction site had caught at Ray's back and shoulders, leaving shallow gashes for the most part, but one small metal piece was still embedded just above his left shoulder blade. His ribs were a mess of bruises, so dark they were nearly black, and dried blood was caked over most of his skin, though the actual bleeding appeared to have stopped for the most part by now. _Thank God_.

“Go wash your hands, Gav.” Dan had re-appeared by his side and Gavin realised, with an odd sort of detachment, that his own hands were still red to the wrist with the blood of the man he'd killed.

He got up only to pause as he looked to where Dan was unpacking a first aid kit.

“Where'd you get that then?”

Dan looked up at him, face still oddly guarded.

“Brought it with me, didn't I?”

“Do you normally bring medkits to hotels?” It came out too accusing, but Gavin couldn't help it; it was the sort of little cue that it was his job to pick up on in clients that Geoff didn't fully trust. Things that didn't quite add up. Dan had the police and the city hospital at his disposal, so he should have no need for a private first aid kit – unless he'd thought something like this was going to happen.

Still that burning question. _How did they know we were coming?_

Dan didn't answer. Just stared at him for a blank moment before turning back to Ray. Gavin swallowed, then departed to the tap.

By the time he returned Dan had mopped away most of the blood with a washcloth, though more was running now from Ray's shoulder where he'd just pulled the shrapnel out. Gavin quickly moved to grab a clean cloth and kneel beside him, keeping the area clean while Dan began to stitch up the wound.

“Lucky he's unconscious,” Dan muttered abruptly – something quick and nervous in it, like he really just wanted to break the silence.

Gavin snuck a glance at him. “He'd've been fine. Ray can deal with some pain... we all can by now.”

Dan gave him a funny sort of look that Gavin couldn't quite work out. He didn't reply, just set to with stitching and then, when that was done, motioned for Gavin to sit Ray up a bit as he inspected then wrapped his ribs.

Gavin bit his lip as he watched. Dan's hands were gentle, efficient, but the silence was growing ever more uncomfortable, and he still couldn't work out what was going through the other man's head.

Dan handed him the end of a bandage to keep hold of and Gavin glanced up at him as he took it, before forcing out, nervously, “Thank you.”

Dan's eyes flickered to his, unreadable. He made no response before he snipped off and hooked the bandage, turning away to pack up the kit.

Gavin looked away, a little put out. He didn't understand. Why should Dan agree to help them, only to now remain so aloof? He snuck another glance at the other man and frowned at the tense line of his shoulders, how carefully, tightly controlled his movements were.

_He's nervous_ , he realised, and swallowed, something uncomfortable in the pit of his stomach, because he was well nervous himself. And it sucked, after how they'd been starting to get along again back at the base – if that had even been real, and not some trick of Dan's to lure him into trusting him again.

_Trust. Dear God_. There was a distinct lack of it – and yet here Dan had risked his job for him again, and Gavin had pretty much placed his own life and Ray's in the other man's hands for the time being.

_Ray_. Gavin turned back to his boyfriend and felt a terrible pang at how pale he was, how vulnerable he looked lying there so still. He reached out and squeezed Ray's hand, frowning at how cold it was, before leaning in and pressing their foreheads together for a moment.

His heart was still racing, skipping nervously now and then, and he felt shaky and unsettled. By the situation, by how close they'd come to being royally fucked, by how even now he felt so awfully alone and out of his depth, with Dan so unreadable and Ray indisposed.

Dan cleared his throat behind him and Gavin jerked upright, turning to find his old friend staring at him a bit awkwardly, seeming almost embarrassed at catching him in such an intimate moment.

“He's gonna be fine,” Dan said quietly, and Gavin glanced down at Ray again, reaching out to smooth back his hair.

“He'd better be,” he murmured.

Dan stepped forward again. “I'll put him in the bed,” he said. “It's a damn sight better than this couch.”

Gavin nodded mutely, watching him carry Ray off into the bedroom. He looked down at the couch and frowned as he realised that it was stained with blood. Sheets and cloths could be burned but they couldn't exactly replace the furniture, and he got up – wincing a bit as his ankle and side protested – and took up the couch cushions, carrying them off into the bathroom where he dumped them in the tub and started running water over them.

He was scrubbing furiously at the bloodstains with a bar of hotel soap when the memory of the man he'd fought drifted back to him.

_The Corpirate sends his regards_.

Jesus Christ. The man was another big name in Achievement City and he was definitely no friend of theirs. In general they tried to stay out of each other's way, since both he and Geoff had enough power and reach that actively attacking one another would be a drain on resources that neither of them needed. Tensions had been rising between them recently, though, and it seemed like this had been the first move in a strike against Geoff's empire.

As if they didn't have enough bloody problems already.

What confused him even more was that the man hadn't just been pretending to be a SWAT officer. It seemed like he had genuinely been there with the police. Which meant the Corpirate had his hands in law enforcement – _damn it. More trouble we don't need_.

He closed his eyes, swallowing down bile as he remembered how he'd beaten the man's head in. Violence didn't phase him much nowadays, after everything else he'd done, but he tended to prefer to keep things clean. A gunshot to the head, a knife to the jugular before stepping back – or even better, letting Ryan or one of the others take care of things like that for him.

He force himself to breathe slowly and evenly again, shutting the water off. When he straightened up his vision swam suddenly and he nearly fell over. He realised that his shoulder was nearly on fire with pain – he'd forced himself to ignore it earlier when treating Ray – that his entire body was so exhausted and hurt so much that he could barely stand.

Somehow he stumbled back into the main room and put the cushions back on the couch, but at some point he began to sway and he'd barely realised his vision had blacked out when suddenly there were arms around him, holding him steady.

“Jesus, Gav. Sit down.”

He was guided to sit on a chair and a warm hand pushed him down until his head was near his knees. It took a few moments before his vision cleared and he felt less dizzy. When the hand withdrew from his back he couldn't help letting out a small whimper, suddenly needing some sort of human contact.

Before long Dan was back by his side, pressing a glass of water into his hand. Gavin took a few slow sips and by the time he'd recovered a little Dan was crouched by his side again, holding the first aid kit.

“Your turn,” he said, and Gavin mechanically shrugged his jacket off. Dan had to help him get his shirt off and the motion brought them far too close together, but Gavin was in too much pain, his side protesting, to even really notice.

He groaned as he sat back in the chair, everything a burning ache. Dan had put the heating up in the hotel room when they got in but Gavin still felt cold suddenly. He looked down and grimaced at the mess that was his shoulder, at the bruises and scrapes from the explosion. Dan was frowning too, and after a second he reached out and pressed at the dark bruise on Gavin's side.

“Ow,” Gavin said flatly, and Dan glanced up at him.

“They're not broken,” he said. He turned to Gavin's shoulder then, taking up a new washcloth and wiping away the blood around the wound, then pulled a face. “That's not pretty.”

“Had worse,” Gavin said without thinking, some automatic bravado rising up.

What he didn't expect was the way that statement made something flicker across Dan's face. He saw his friend's eyes run down the rest of his chest, taking in the other scars there. Long-healed things – glancing knife wounds or places where he'd been caught by broken glass and shrapnel, white lines cutting through the hair on his chest. The unmistakeable raised star of a bullet wound on his left upper arm – that hadn't been fun. He felt suddenly self conscious and wrapped his good arm around himself, covering most of them.

“Looks like you've been through the wringer,” Dan muttered, but there was no humour in it, and Gavin couldn't so much as force a smile as he glanced away. He remembered what Dan had told him before, about his own scars – _they're all under my clothes_ – he didn't like to think about it, about all these reminders of how many ways both of them had changed.

Dan turned away then, grabbing a bottle of antiseptic from the first aid kit.

“This might sting,” he warned.

“It's a bloody stab wound, Dan,” Gavin replied. “It already more than stings!”

Dan gave a tight smile, but when he pressed the wet washcloth to Gavin's shoulder again Gavin had to bite back a hiss at how much it _hurt_. His head was still swimming a little from the shock of the explosion and how fast everything had happened after, and the sudden pain only made it worse. He thought he might have blacked out for a second again because the next thing he knew Dan's hand was on his other shoulder, holding him still as he cleaned out the wound.

“Sorry,” he murmured as he pressed down particularly hard.

Gavin just made a vague grumbled sound of assent. Dan's touch was careful but there was an awkwardness to his movements that he suddenly became aware of, and after a second he realised just how strange their positions were.

Growing up Dan was the one who had gotten into fights – the one who Gavin would have to patch up, being pretty non-confrontational himself.

And he himself had done his fair share of self care when things started to go to shit back in England, and once he got to America, too, when he wasn't working for just one crew yet, when he didn't have many friends other than Burnie – but nowadays, nowadays it was always one of his boyfriends, almost a ritual that they went through whenever one of them finished a job. A reassurance that none of them had to clean themselves up alone any more.

But here was Dan now, his touch soft as he gently turned Gavin sideways a bit to get at the top of the wound.

Gavin suddenly became aware that it was very quiet in the hotel room, no one in the corridor outside or on their floor. It had been easy to get caught up in Ray's injuries, in the driving need to just get him out of there and patch him up, but he remembered then exactly what sort of situation they were in.

The police would be looking for them.

He wondered if the others had all gotten away. They'd be frantic, wondering where he and Ray were now.

They'd've been dead if Dan hadn't helped them, and Gavin still didn't know _why._ He cleared his throat a little.

“Are we gonna talk?” he asked. His voice was quiet and for a moment he thought Dan might not have heard him under the rain still beating down outside, but then Dan looked up, and Gavin forced himself to meet his eyes, holding his gaze steadily.

Dan had helped them. But sitting here now, unarmed and shirtless and injured, Gavin felt far too vulnerable. All he could think of was how Dan had betrayed them before – how he'd lured him in and tricked him and then run – had probably been the one to tell Coal about the heist – yes, he'd helped them now, but suddenly Gavin needed to know if they were really safe here.

“Did you tell Coal about this?” he asked, cutting right to the chase. “About our plan?”

Dan looked away, turning to rummage in the first aid kit. He re-emerged with a needle and thread and reached for Gavin's shoulder, but Gavin reached out and caught his wrist. Dan's silence was answer enough, and Gavin held onto him until he turned and looked up at him again.

“ _Why_?” Gavin demanded. He forgot to regulate his voice and it came out a plea more than anything else.

“You're breaking the law,” Dan replied, but it sounded rehearsed, like something he'd told himself over and over.

Gavin stared at him.

“I thought you...” he trailed off, suddenly horribly unsure of himself. _You thought what? That he'd come around? That he didn't care about that anymore? You fucking idiot, of course he cares, he's not like you, he hasn't given up all that. Everything that happened back at the base – he still hasn't forgiven you. He's still not okay with all this_.

Objectively he couldn't fault Dan for it. But damn it, he still felt _betrayed –_ that Dan had used Gavin's affection for him to trick him, to break out and escape and to then lead Coal right to them. That because of him things had gone so wrong. That because of him the others had been put in danger- that even now Ray was lying unconscious in the next room.

An anger rose up, one he'd been quashing down since Dan escaped. It only intensified when he realised that Dan looked pained too – he could see it. He still gave Gavin no answer, turning and started to stitch at his shoulder, but being ignored only annoyed Gavin further.

He grabbed Dan's wrist again.

“I'll do it myself,” he snapped, and tried to jerk away only to hiss when Dan didn't let go of the needle and the thread tugged at his wound.

Dan yanked his hand out of Gavin's grip and pushed him firmly back into the seat.

“ _No you won't_ ,” he said – sounding as angry as Gavin did now. “Fucking sit still.”

Gavin glared at him, but stayed still as Dan got to work again.

“What did you think would happen?” he demanded after a moment of silence. “Did you think Coal would arrest us? That we'd face trial, face justice? 'Cause that's not what'd happen.”

“It's what _should_ happen,” Dan began, but Gavin cut him off.

“ _Not here_. Do you even know what sort of guy Coal is?”

Dan's head snapped up at that, something almost suspicious in his eyes. He didn't answer, but Gavin could tell he was listening intently, and continued.

“If they caught us they'd hurt us. They'd kill us. We wouldn't so much as see trial. Hell, Ray could have fucking died back there – even now he still hasn't woken up. And that guy...” He reached up, touching his bruised throat – his voice was still strained and hoarse, it still hurt to speak. “That man I was fighting with? He nearly killed me. He was with SWAT but he was really working for someone called the Corpirate. Heard of him? You ratting us out to Coal gave his guy a great fucking opportunity to get the jump on us-”

“Don't you dare turn this on me,” Dan said, quietly, angrily. “If you hadn't gone out to steal that damn etching in the first place no one would have had the chance to go after you.”

There was a tense pause. They were both glaring at each other but at least they weren't shouting.

“So what changed your mind then?” Gavin demanded finally. “You could have killed Jack when you had the chance. Why didn't you?”

Dan's jaw clenched. Again that odd flicker across his face, something like a restrained sort of guilt.

“Why help us now?” Gavin asked, more quietly, and Dan grit his teeth.

“Oh, would you like me to stop?” he demanded, something defensive in it, before leaning in and aggressively snapping off the end of the stitching thread.

He sounded so annoyed that for a moment Gavin flinched, remembering suddenly that his life and Ray's pretty much depended on Dan continuing to assist them. Almost automatically he found himself dropping back into what he knew would appeal to Dan's sympathies – quiet, vulnerable, almost shy, as much of a mask as the blankness he put on, or the professionalism, or the confidence.

“No,” he said softly, looking away. “I do appreciate it. Thank you.”

Dan looked startled at his sudden attitude change, but quickly seemed to catch on, and then just looked annoyed.

“Stop that,” he snapped, and reached out, shaking Gavin's arm roughly. “Stop fucking _pretending_ , Gav. Jesus, can you even control it anymore?”

Gavin stared at him, caught-out; the motion had been half-unconscious and he'd nearly forgotten that Dan could read him so well. There was something like pity in his friend's eyes now.

“Wear a mask long enough and you forget what's really under it,” Dan continued, and then sighed, looking away, running his hands over his face.

“I don't know,” he said then, in answer to Gavin's earlier question. “I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, okay?”

“If Coal and the others realise you've helped us they'll-"

“ _I know_.”

He didn't bother to hide his distress now, his previous terseness fading away to be replaced by something else. Such deep confusion and _pain_ that Gavin was the one who felt guilty now, both for putting Dan in this situation and being annoyed with him for ratting them out in the first place.

It was his fault, all of this, really. He could hardly blame Dan for doing the right thing; God knew he wasn't deserving of any of his loyalty, not nowadays. But in the end he'd helped them, and suddenly all Gavin's anger drained away in place of a deep, burning _affection_ for the other man for ultimately choosing him over everything else. He bit his lip, though, unable to reach out to Dan, not wanting to make this any more confusing for him than it already had to be.

“By saving us,” he said then, voice barely above a whisper, “You've pretty much picked a side, Dan. You can't come back from this if they find out."

“So they can't find out then,” Dan replied. Voice stiff again after having had a moment to compose himself. Something almost defiant in it.

Gavin shook his head.

“Dan, it's not as simple as that. We can't hide here forever. And we can't keep coming up against each other and just hoping we'll somehow manage to stay out of each other's way. You've given Coal one tip now, he'll be out for more. And just now... just now you _saved_ us, Ray and I, that's-”

“I wasn't about to let them take you,” Dan snapped. “But don't put this on me. I can't believe after everything that's happened you'd still agree to go on a heist like this. Jesus Christ, it's as though you want to make this as hard for me as possible.”

“That's not true!”

“Isn't it?” Dan asked, rounding on him. He ran his hands over his face, distressed. “You know what the fucking problem is, Gavin? You don't have a plan. Or your plan is for _me_ to change. I'm the one who has to give up everything while you just continue happily running around fucking robbing museums and killing cops. You want to have your bloody cake and eat it too. Well, guess what, you got what you wanted. Now I've helped you so I guess I'm some sort of outlaw as well. Congratulations. We've both betrayed everything we believe in.”

Gavin gaped at him, unable to come up with a response. While it perhaps hadn't been _intentional_ , at the core it was true. But still, perhaps, what Dan hadn't quite gotten his head around yet – it went both ways.

Dan didn't want Coal and the police to hurt him.

And Gavin didn't want Geoff and the others to have to turn against Dan. Even if he'd hurt Jack, even if he'd escaped them, betrayed them, Gavin didn't want him to be their enemy.

Despite everything, despite _everything_ , at heart all they still wanted to do was protect each other. And _that_ was perhaps the only aspect of their childhood ideals that Gavin still held on to, the only thing he could believe in after all the shit he'd gone through – _make it better_ , but for yourself, for the people you loved, that was the only thing he still thought himself capable of doing.

No matter what Dan wanted, by actively helping them he had as good as made his choice already, and from the tense set of his shoulders, the nervousness in his voice, Gavin could tell he knew that. That maybe he just didn't want to admit it to himself yet.

“Anyway,” Dan scolded finally. “You still shouldn't have stolen that damn artwork. Was I meant to just let you get away with something that big?”

_Artwork._ It hit Gavin suddenly that the etching was still here, with them, in Ray's bag – his eyes flickered over to where he'd left it lying over by the couch.

Unfortunately Dan caught the movement, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he followed Gavin's gaze.

“What the hell have you got in there then?” he demanded.

Gavin froze; it was bad enough having two fugitives in this hotel room without adding the damn Rembrandt into the mix.

“Ummm,” he began, but it was too late. Dan was already standing across the room, ducking to open the bag.

“Wait,” Gavin started, belatedly, thinking he could still salvage this somehow – leave with Ray and prevent Dan becoming even more of an accessory to what seemed to be quickly going down in history as not only the biggest but the most fucking _disastrous_ heist of the twenty-first century-

But it was to no avail. Dan had already unzipped the bag and even now was pulling out the stolen goods.  
  


* * *

* * *

  
Dan was fucking furious.

At himself. At Gavin. At Ramsey. At himself – at _himself_.

In the heat of the moment, oh God, hadn't it seemed the right thing to do. _Protect Gavin_. And immediately after – as he made the choice, as _B_ slipped involuntarily from his lips and he saw the sheer, raw, _honest_ rush of relief cross Gavin's face-

It had felt _right_ , in a way that the decision to tell the police the heist plan hadn't.

But that had lasted only a moment or two before all his doubts came slamming back into him again.

_What the fuck am I doing._

_What the fuck am I doing._

_What the fuck am I_ doing?

Gavin was right, he was left with the choice he'd made now – but he still felt unsure about it, awkward in his own skin, and the tension between the two of them had risen back up, making it hard for his decision to sit right in his stomach.

It only intensified as he drew out a black bag and some object wrapped in cloth. For a moment he was confused, unsure quite what he was looking at – he pulled the cloth away and his eyes fell on a familiar pattern of black lines.

“Is this...”

He almost couldn't believe his eyes, turning to look up at Gavin, who had risen from the chair and was shifting guiltily.

Dan swallowed a few times, trying to get his head around it.

“This is the art,” he said. “The art is here. The art is _fucking right here in the room –_ Jesus _Christ_ , Gav.”

“Sorry,” Gavin said awkwardly. “We, uh. Decided it'd be better if Geoff took the briefcase as a decoy.”

“The stolen art worth millions of dollars is sitting in my fucking hotel room. _Gavin_. Why would you do this to me Gavin.”

This made things complicated. Jesus Christ. They'd be looking all over the gaff for this thing, even if they thought Ray and Gavin had gotten away. What the hell was he supposed to _do_ with it?

But despite his annoyance, the whole situation was just so ridiculous that somewhere deep inside he couldn't help but feel faintly almost _amused_ at the fact that they'd apparently just stuffed this priceless relic in a backpack and carried it around with them.

“My day just keeps getting better and better,” Dan groaned finally, rubbing his hands over his face.

Gavin looked sheepish, but before he could say anything more, Dan's phone began to vibrate. He looked down and felt a shock of alarm as he realised Coal was calling him. He'd dropped his intercom back at the mall – it wouldn't be unreasonable to say that he'd lost it in all the action.

He hit _decline_ but then turned to Gavin.

“I need to report back to Coal,” he said stiffly.

He saw the alarm flicker across Gavin's face and felt vaguely sick again at the fact that despite everything – despite the choices he'd made – they still didn't trust each other.

But after a second, Gavin nodded.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Better to try and keep him from getting suspicious.”

Dan nodded. The room was warm – he'd put the heating on – but he noticed suddenly that Gavin was shivering a bit, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. They’d both gotten soaked getting from the mall to the car, the rain still coming down outside in droves, a heavy rattle against the windows.

He strode over to the kit and grabbed a bandage, leaning in to plaster it quickly over Gavin's shoulder wound. Ignored the way the other man sucked his breath in when he suddenly got close.

“Go shower,” he said. “Then I can lend you a shirt. The last thing we need is one of us getting sick.”

Gavin hesitated, then nodded, trailing off to the bathroom. The minute he left the room Dan slumped down onto the couch, letting out a deep breath, relieved to at last be alone if only for a short time.

_Okay_ , he thought. _Okay_.

After all that had happened, he couldn't turn Gavin in to Coal now. Like it or not he'd made his choice, and given everything that had happened he didn't exactly trust the FBI right now either. He was on his own side for the time being.

Which meant it was time to lie.

He felt oddly nervous as he called Coal back and waited for him to pick up, but as soon as he heard the click of the receiver and the other man's voice, it came almost too easily to lie.

“Gruchy, where the fuck are you?”

“Back at the hotel,” Dan replied calmly.

“ _Why?_ Where the _hell_ did you go during the operation?”

When in doubt, play dumb.

“I got separated from the others in the mall,” Dan said, nearly surprising himself with how smoothly it came out. “There was an explosion and half the damn building collapsed and while we were trying to follow them out I ended up on my own and got lost in this bloody city. I don't know where anything is!”

Coal was silent for a long moment, and Dan held his breath. When the other man still didn't reply, he cleared his throat and added, “So did you find Ramsey and the others?”

“No, they're fucking gone,” Coal replied, and Dan felt almost guilty at his sudden rush of relief that the rest of Gavin's boyfriends were still safe. “We're having a group meeting back at the station. Get your ass over here – and don't get lost this time!”

“Yes sir,” Dan added, knowing the title had pleased Coal earlier. He heard the other man give a little grunt before hanging up and lowered the phone slowly from his ear, wondering when he'd started to put on as much of an act as Gavin did.

_Hopefully he's bought it for now_ , he thought, and sighed, suddenly feeling terribly tired.

Wearily he pulled himself up off the couch and headed into the bedroom to grab a dry shirt for himself, and one for Gavin. He dressed quickly and then paused as he shut his suitcase and looked over at Ray, lying pale and still. After a moment's hesitation he crossed over to the bed and looked down at him.

It looked more like he was sleeping than that he was passed out – Dan could only hope that he would be fine. They couldn't exactly get him to a doctor right now if there was something wrong with him that they hadn't noticed.

He bit his lip as he reached out and pulled the blankets up more firmly about Ray's shoulders. He looked terribly young here, face relaxed in sleep, glasses on the bed-stand beside him. Not at all like the vicious criminal who was feared throughout Achievement City.

It wasn't just Gavin who Dan had saved back there. Who he was protecting even now.

He sighed, closing his eyes as he wondered for the hundredth time just how the fuck he'd gotten himself into this situation. In the next room he heard the bathroom door open and snapped back to attention, grabbing up the shirt and moving out to meet Gavin.

There was a bit of colour back in the other man's cheeks now, his hair sticking up in wet spikes where he'd towel dried it. Their eyes met awkwardly before Dan tossed him the shirt, only to quickly realise Gavin would struggle to put it on with his injured arm and move forward to help.

“I have to go to the police station,” he said.

“Okay,” Gavin replied hesitantly, wincing a bit as Dan guided his arm through one sleeve.

“They haven’t caught the others,” Dan continued. “Geoff, Ryan, all of them – they got away. Coal's well pissed.”

He saw Gavin's shoulders slump in relief, a small smile playing at his lips.

“You know where they are,” Dan added then, and Gavin glanced up at him.

“Yeah,” he said, cautiously.

There was a moment of awkward silence. Dan wasn't really expecting Gavin to tell him – not after he'd ratted out their heist plan – but somehow it still hurt a little when Gavin just stared at him suspiciously, obviously reluctant to tell him too much.

After a moment Dan sighed. He straightened Gavin's shirt and stepped back, running a hand through his hair.

“You can't leave this hotel,” he said. “There are police everywhere outside and Ray's still in bad shape. They'll be searching the streets too. Even if I helped you we wouldn't get out of here in one piece.”

Gavin nodded.

“I'll try to be quick,” Dan continued. “But I don't know what Coal will want me to be doing. Don't open the door for anyone.”

Gavin nodded again, then said, “Lend me your phone?”

“What?”

“I need to call Geoff.” Gavin held out his hand expectantly and Dan reached into his pocket. He took hold of the phone but didn't hand it over.

“I don't know if that's a good idea,” he began slowly.

Gavin's eyes narrowed.

“They don't know what happened to us. Our earpieces cut out in the explosion.” His tone was sharp, almost commanding. “They'll be freaking out. What's the problem?” A strained pause. “Am I a _prisoner_ here?”

“What? No!” Dan grit his teeth, fighting not to get annoyed. “Jesus, Gav, I saved your bloody life. You're not a prisoner. That's not what this is about.”

“Then let me call them, please.”

Dan hesitated again, then sighed, handing the phone over.

“Whatever Geoff wants, you _can't_ let them lead some sort of rescue mission over here to bust you out,” he said firmly. “For now I still don't want anyone to know you're here.”

Gavin nodded.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, taking the phone.

Dan just sighed again as he turned away. He crossed to the kitchenette and fussed about getting a drink of water, but listened in, wanting to monitor the conversation.

Gavin glanced at him as he called Geoff and held the phone to his ear, then looked away, ignoring him. After a moment his eyes lit up as Geoff presumably answered.

“Geoff! It's me, it's Gav.... Shhh, okay, I'm fine.... This is Dan's phone.”

There came a commotion so loud from the other end of the line that even Dan could hear it at the kitchenette. Gavin winced and held the phone away from his ear a little, listening patiently until Geoff was done.

“Okay,” he said calmly. “Let me explain, alright? Ray and I got injured but he helped us get out.... Yes, I'm okay. Ray is... he'll be okay, I think. He's sleeping right now.” A pause. “We're at Dan's hotel room. Are you back at Funhaus?”

_What the fuck is Funhaus_ , Dan thought – it seemed they must have contacts in this city then – but Gavin gave no further detail.

“We can't leave,” he continued then. “No, Geoff, I mean it. Ray's hurt and I'm hurt and there's cops everywhere. Like all the damn police are staying at this hotel. I literally cannot step out the door.... No, Geoff, I can't climb out the bloody window, I fucked up my ribs and how would I get Ray out? Jesus.... No, Dan's still here. He took care of us, he's.... Geoff.... _Geoff_.... I _trust_ him, okay?”

Dan startled a little at the words. He hadn't expected them, and Gavin looked up and met his eyes across the room, face unreadable. Dan couldn't tell if he meant it, or if he was perhaps just trying to reassure Geoff.

“I know,” Gavin said, in response to whatever Geoff's protests were now. Dan could well imagine. He had hit Jack, after all, and not gently either. And he'd fucked up their big grand heist plan. It was no wonder Ramsey wasn't pleased that Gavin and Ray were here with him. “...I know.... Yes, I know what he did.... Yes I do remember that.... I _know_ , okay, but he- he saved our lives and he got us out of there and he's as good as aligned with us by doing so. Listen, Geoff, he's just as fucked as the rest of us if they find out.”

Another long pause.

“We're fine for now,” Gavin said. “We just need to lay low until Ray gets better and we can leave.... Geoff. I do trust him.”

Again the words made Dan stiffen a little. He looked down at his watch and grimaced. He really needed to leave, or Coal would start getting suspicious again. Catching Gavin's eye, he motioned for him to wrap up, and Gavin nodded.

“Geoff, look, I have to go now.” Another wince as an explosion of protests sounded on the other end of the line. “No.... No, I have to go, but I'll get back to you as soon as possible, okay? ….Look, I don't like it either, but we're stuck for now. Okay? ….Okay.” He paused, glancing at Dan nervously, then turned away a bit, his voice dropping a little. “I'll be careful, I promise. Stay safe.” He swallowed, then added, softly, “Love you too.”

He lowered the phone from his ear and stared at it for a moment. When Dan stepped over towards him he looked up and forced a smile.

“All fine,” he said. “They'll leave us be for now.” He frowned suddenly. “Shit, I forgot to tell him about the Corpirate.”

“You can call him again later. I really need to go now.” He took the phone back and grabbed his keys from the table, heading for the door.

“Wait!” Gavin called suddenly. Dan paused, glancing back over his shoulder. Gavin looked awkward suddenly, but pushed on.

“Stay safe,” he said, and Dan forced a weak smile, feeling suddenly uneasy. The words uncomfortably mirrored the sentiment he'd issued to Gavin before the heist – before he'd tricked him and taken the keycard and made off – but Gavin wasn't tricking him now, he suddenly knew it deep in his bones. The concern in his eyes and voice was sincere.

“I'll try,” he began, and had to fight to swallow the _B_ that nearly automatically finished off the sentence. He left quickly, shutting the door behind him and flipping the ' _Do Not Disturb_ ' sign onto the door.

Outside, alone, he took a deep breath. Straightened his coat and got himself in order, and headed off to lie some more.  
  


* * *

  
The police station was crowded. Not just with the group who'd been involved in the operation earlier, but others – police, FBI, official looking people running around in a great hubbub. There were cars constantly coming and going outside and Dan felt a bit lost when he stepped into the building.

Very quickly, however, he heard the familiar sound of Coal screaming his lungs out at someone, and grimaced as he followed the noise.

Coal was alone in a small office, screeching orders down the radio at someone. When he saw Dan he scowled and finished up, turning to him.

“Well busy out there,” Dan started, and Coal gave a mighty scoff.

“Of course it's fucking busy! They got away with the God damn Rembrandt!”

“You still have no sign of them?”

“No. They've disappeared. We don't think they've left the city but they gave us the fucking slip for now. And we can't find the art, either. Ramsey dropped a briefcase while my guys were chasing him but it was empty – they fucking fooled us into concentrating on him when they've really got it stashed with one of the others.”

_Oops_ , Dan thought, thinking of the art still lying on the couch back in his hotel room.

Coal ran his hands through his hair agitatedly. “Word's gotten out by now. Everyone's in a fucking uproar. The media are having a _blast_. Someone stealing that art from right under our very noses? This isn't just an AC thing, Gruchy, people all over the globe are looking at us now to get this thing back. Not to mention the guards at the convoy recognised Ramsey and the others. People know it's the Fake AH Crew so of course the news are digging up all our past failures. We're the laughing stock of the entire fucking _world._ I am being deadly serious.”

“Jesus,” was all Dan could manage. He had known the Rembrandt was big but somehow it hadn't really hit him until now that that meant this investigation wasn't just going to remain enclosed in Achievement City. Everyone else would be looking on, depending on them to find both the art and the people responsible.

Once again: Fucking great. It was sitting on his couch.

“Bosses riding up my ass,” Coal continued to rant, gesticulating wildly; Dan listened in silence, giving a sympathetic nod now and then.

“So what's the plan?” he asked finally, and Coal turned to him, eyes narrowed.

“We're hunting them down. Searching the city. But you're gonna be no damn help at that, are you, Losty McGee?” He sighed. “Go back to the hotel and look through all the shit you have on them again. You found Jenzen last time – I need you to dig up and see if they have any contacts in this city that they might be staying with. Maybe someone King was in touch with.”

“I can do that,” Dan assured him.

“Good,” Coal said shortly, and was promptly called away by someone, storming out of the office leading Dan to let out a sigh of relief, glad that for now it seemed the other man didn't suspect a thing.

At least until he turned around and found Mike leaning in the doorway, staring at him.

“Bloody hell mate,” he said, jumping a mile.

“Sorry,” Mike replied, with another of his insincere smiles. “Did Coal just say you were heading back to the hotel?”

“Yeah,” Dan said, cautiously.

“Mind giving me a ride? I'm going back there too.”

There was no real way he could refuse. He shrugged and Mike smiled again, heading back down to the car park with him.

“So dude, what happened back there? Your comm just cut out suddenly,” Mike said as they walked.

Dan clenched his teeth; it was the conversation he'd been avoiding having with Coal and he didn't like that Mike was bringing it up now. Why should he care?

It was true, though, he'd turned the communicator off abruptly when he arrived at the construction site and realised it was Gavin who was there. And he hadn't reported back in until Coal called him.

“Yeah, it just sort of died on me,” he replied, rather lamely. “Unreliable thing.”

“I see,” Mike said, flatly, and Dan cast him a glance, alarmed. But Mike didn't push further, though he did keep annoyingly trying to start conversations with Dan as they drove.

“Frustrating that they got away when we were so _close_ ,” Mike said. “We had the element of surprise and everything.”

“Terrible,” Dan said flatly.

Mike was not phased by his curt reply.

“That fucking magnet was just ridiculous wasn't it?” he brought up, shortly after.

“Yeah, it was.” Dan was starting to grow nervous; he was so wound up and paranoid now that he couldn't tell if Mike was just being friendly or if he was trying to catch him out somehow.

And it continued - “They actually almost had Ramsey at one point,” Mike told him. “But Vagabond came in and got him out.”

“I see.”

And “I can't believe they stole that damn art! People are going _crazy_ about it. This is gonna be big, Dan.”

“Maybe the investigation will get taken over by someone else,” Dan mused.

Mike cast him a glance. “Coal wouldn't be happy if that happened.”

“Yeah.”

Dan broached his own topic as they got closer.

“Hey, do you know anything about the Corpirate?” he asked.

Mike looked over at him curiously. “Not really our case. We're more focused on Ramsey and the Fake AH Crew.”

“The two don't cross paths much?”

“Not really,” Mike replied, and seemed like he was about to ask why Dan's interest, so Dan dropped the topic quickly.

Finally they arrived back near the hotel. Dan pulled up at the streets nearby, where there were several shops. It was getting late by now and Coal wouldn't expect him back until the next morning.

“I need to get food,” he said, and Mike nodded vigorously.

“Oh! Me too,” he said, and Dan's heart sank a little, having hoped to get away from the other man at least for a few moments. He shrugged, though, and they got out of the car together.

Dan was buying to feed Gavin and Ray as well, and it didn't slip past nosy Mike, who gave him some terribly strange looks as they made their purchases and then, the moment they were in the car, reached out and looked into Dan's bag.

“That's a lot of food,” he observed.

“I eat a lot,” Dan snapped. Mike's prying was putting him on edge and he snatched the bag back and put it on his lap.

“Didn't always have enough food,” he added. Half the truth, half to get Mike off his back.

It worked. The other man sensed his annoyance and backed off, raising his hands defensively.

“Okay, dude, chill. I was just saying.”

He hoped that would be the end of it. But as they walked into the hotel Dan was rudely reminded that Mike was in the room next door to him. He lingered in the corridor, checking his phone, waiting for Mike to go inside first, only for the other man to loiter.

Dan glanced up at him, eyebrows raised, and Mike smiled and gestured towards Dan's door.

“Hey, why don't we have a drink together, talk about the case a bit? Two minds might get us further than one.”

_Oh fuck no_ , Dan thought, and forced a pleasant smile back.

“I'm a bit tired actually,” he replied, “I think I might work better alone for now. Get in the zone and all, y'know?”

“We could at least eat together.”

“I'm not really in the mood to chat right now,” Dan replied, and stepped in front of his door a little.

Mike raised his eyebrows. “Dude, what's up with you? You hiding something in there?”

“No!” Dan said, a little too quickly. Mark's eyes narrowed suspiciously and Dan fumbled to come up with an excuse.

“My room is a giant mess,” he said, “I may or may not have been smoking in there.”

“Wow. Rule-breaker much,” Mark said, and Dan fought not to laugh hysterically because _Jesus Christ you don't know the half of the rules that I've broken today_. The man seemed to accept it, though, turning away and throwing a _goodnight_ over his shoulder before heading into his own room.

Dan let out a huff of relief and unlocked his own door. It was dark when he stepped in, and he frowned a bit, suddenly half-afraid that Gavin had somehow made a run for it.

“Gav?” he called out quietly, shutting the door behind him and fumbling for the light switch. “I'm back.”

To his great relief Gavin emerged from the bedroom. He looked wary, but relaxed when he realised it was indeed Dan.

“Hey. You weren't very long.”

“Coal wants me to do some work from here. I think we're clear for now. We can't be too loud, though. One of my colleagues is next door and he's the nosiest parker I've ever met.”

Gavin nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“How's Ray?” Dan asked then.

“He woke up a bit before. Seemed okay. I explained to him what's going on but he's fallen asleep again; he's exhausted. Probably best to let him rest for now.”

“Okay. I brought you food.”

Gavin nodded. They sat at the table in the main area and proceeded to have the most awkward meal Dan had ever experienced. The weird stalemate they were trapped in meant that neither of them started up a conversation; they weren't angry at each other, but neither were they comfortable in each other's company the way they had been moving towards back at the base. So they just sat opposite each other, focused on their food.

Eventually, though, he realised that he wasn't able to stop glancing up at Gavin, careful not to make eye contact.

He couldn't help realising just how much he still cared about the other man.

He didn't like how tired he looked, the little creases of pain around his eyes and mouth, obviously still aching from the day's events. He didn't like how nervous Gavin still seemed around him.

He remembered what he'd said before he escaped, before Gavin was meant to have left for the heist. _I don't want you dead. I can't deal with losing you again._

He'd been putting it on, playing to Gavin's sympathies – but he couldn't deny that there had been some truth in it. That when it came down to it, he had _meant_ it, even if he perhaps hadn't let himself admit it at the time.

“Can you sneak us out tonight?” Gavin asked, when they had finished.

“I don't think so,” Dan replied. “People are still coming and going. They're searching the streets too.”

“What's our next move?”

“Wait until Ray's healed enough to move on his own. That way if something goes wrong at least you have a chance of escaping.”

Gavin nodded. Then asked, hesitantly, “What are you going to tell Coal and the others? They'll expect you to be doing work and making progress.”

“I'll say I'm still working on it but I can't find anything.” It was a feeble excuse and Gavin didn't look very convinced.

“You never were a good liar,” he muttered, and Dan spluttered.

“I didn't think you were either, until now!” he replied. Gavin bit his lip at the remark, looking away.

“Thanks for helping us,” he said again, and Dan frowned.

“You don't need to keep thanking me like you're worried I'm gonna change my mind. I'm not gonna change my mind.”

Gavin didn't look convinced and Dan frowned, leaning forward across the table.

“I couldn't let them kill you,” he said. “You're my best friend.”

The words slipped out before he'd even really thought about them, and Gavin glanced up at him.

“I thought I wasn't the same person you knew any more,” he said quietly, and Dan bit his lip.

“Aren't you?” he pressed.

Gavin looked away.

“I don't know,” he muttered, and rose abruptly, moving to clear the table off. Dan let him go and headed out to the balcony for a smoke.

The rain had stopped and the sudden silence outside was disconcerting. The sky was dark, the clouds blocking out any semblance of moonlight, and the air was very cold, and sent him into a coughing fit the minute he took a deep breath. He stifled it with the arm of his coat, not wanting Gavin to hear, but still lit up the minute he recovered.

His thoughts drifted, settling on nothing in particular, coming to no conclusions. He thought again about everything that had happened so far.

Life in London seemed very far away. He tried to imagine himself going back, returning to the life he'd had, and couldn't quite picture it. He didn't think he could go back.

He didn't think he _wanted_ to go back.

It suddenly seemed awful to him. Wandering around. Falling in circles. Doing the same thing over and over to no real effect. Fighting for something but never really feeling like he was making any sort of change, any sort of _difference_.

_What do I want?_

Once he'd known for certain. _Make it better_. Now that seemed foolish, an impossibility. Something he couldn't really believe in any more.

The thought didn't even scare him as much as it once had. Instead he felt oddly, faintly apathetic towards this newfound cynicism, and even that didn't terrify him so much as it seemed an inevitable fact of this cruel life.

He stayed out longer than he'd intended, until presently he realised that his fingers had grown numb with cold and his cigarette was smoked to the stub. He let it drop to the balcony floor and sighed, jamming his hands in under his armpits as he headed back inside.

It had gotten much later than he'd realised, and inside it was dark and very quiet. Only the kitchenette light was left on, dimly illuminating the hotel room.

He sighed as he threw himself down on the couch, only to sit on something hard and realise that he'd plonked himself right on the art.

_Fuck_ , he thought, cursing his carelessness as he dug it out from under him. He unwrapped both pieces to make sure he hadn't accidentally broken it – oh God, that'd be a laugh, _yeah sorry I sat on the priceless old art piece and now it's damaged_ – and paused as he got his first proper look at it.

The etching plate was nothing spectacular to the untrained eye. Just a carved piece of metal he couldn't make out well in the dark. But the original print, pressed into a thin glass case, was another matter entirely.

Dan knew little about art, certainly not enough to make any sort of deep observation about the print. It seemed to be some sort of Biblical image – two sketchy, fairly simple figures, though it must have been hard to put any sort of great detail into an etching of two full-bodies. One half of the picture was much darker than the other, black cross hatching casting the background into shadow. It seemed to be a picture of two angels, though when he looked closer he noticed that one of them had no wings and was half cast into the darkness, vaguely reaching out to the other, who stood in more radiant light, head thrown back in some show of nobility.

It took him a second to realise it was meant to be Satan and the archangel Michael, being rather more used to seeing the latter, y'know, stepping on the other's head in most Biblical art.

But this one had painted the devil not as a grotesque beast but as Lucifer, the beautiful fallen angel, even now slipping into the darkness. His face still youthful, clear, something almost piteous where his eyes were cast towards Michael.

Dan was staring at the image, transfixed, when out of the silence came a sudden, booming crack of thunder. It was so tremendously loud that it sounded almost like a bomb going off, and he jumped, dropping the art, flinching hard and curling in on himself automatically.

The alarm lasted only a second before he realised it had just been the weather – the rain already starting up again outside – and he forced himself to slow his breathing. His heart was pounding, and he pulled his jacket closer about himself, suddenly very cold.

“Are you okay?”

Gavin's voice came out of nowhere and Dan spun around. He found the other man sitting against the wall next to the bedroom doorway, and scowled.

“How long have you been there?”

“Since you came in,” Gavin replied, a bit bewildered. Dan realised he hadn't seen him in the dark, had just assumed he was asleep.

“Why the fuck are you just sitting there watching me?” he demanded.

He rose off the couch and crossed over to Gavin. When the other man didn't stand up Dan moved to sit next to him, sliding his back down the wall and drawing his knees up.

“Keeping watch,” Gavin replied.

“Why?” Dan asked.

Gavin didn't answer, and Dan turned to look at him.

“You still think I'm going to turn on you,” he said flatly.

“No,” Gavin replied, but there was guilt in his tone. “I mean... the last time I trusted you you did steal from me and then hit my boyfriend. In the face. Really hard.”

“I needed to get out of there,” Dan said.

Gavin was silent and Dan didn't look away from him. _Does he still resent me for that trick?_

“You know why I had to do it,” he continued, suddenly feeling like he had something to prove. “I couldn't risk starting to trust you more. Couldn't risk becoming like-”

“What? Like me?” Gavin cut in, and Dan was the one who looked away now.

“You were keeping me prisoner,” he muttered, and Gavin nodded.

“I know. You're in the right. Doesn't mean I'm not pissed you hurt Jack though. But you don't need to justify yourself to me. ”

“I guess it doesn't matter much,” Dan said. “Look at us now.”

Gavin let out a huff of a laugh. There was a long moment of silence. Dan realised that he'd accidentally left the balcony door ajar and a draft was coming into the room, but he couldn't be bothered to get up to close it. He was sitting just close enough to Gavin that their arms brushed, a single point of warmth in the otherwise frigid room.

Finally Gavin sighed.

“I'm not the same,” he said quietly.

“What?”

“Your best friend. The Gavin you knew."

“Why do you say that?” Dan asked, something tight and uncomfortable clenching at his stomach.

Gavin picked nervously at the carpet. The motion brought his arm forward, brushing up against Dan, but he barely seemed to notice.

“He was a child,” he said, voice tight. “A stupid, naïve child. Everything we used to say, Dan, it doesn't... it doesn't work like that in the real world.”

“The _real_ world,” Dan repeated. “You mean Achievement City?”

“Not just AC. Back home as well. I tried, Dan, I tried really fucking hard to stick to it all. But what was I left with? People trying to kill me. You _gone_. I just got tangled deeper and deeper in all that shit. Make it better – there _is_ no better. Not for everyone. Someone's gotta win and someone's gotta lose, that's how it is.” A pause. “And I don't want to lose.”

Dan couldn't speak, lost for words. Paralysed by the quiet, dull certainty in Gavin's voice.

At his silence, Gavin gave a little laugh.

“I do care about things,” he said, voice artificially light now. “Not just myself. People tell me I'm selfish, but. I care about Burnie, and my friends, and Geoff and Ryan and Michael and Jack and Ray – and they care about me, and they're the only fucking ones who _do_. This city is a cesspool and you can't make it better, you _can't_ , you can never change everything and there's... there's a point where you just have to look out for yourself, and the people you love, instead of giving and giving yourself to a world that won't give you a damn thing back. No one's going to thank you for trying so hard. No one's gonna _care_.”

“ _We_ would have cared,” Dan insisted. “You and me. If someone had tried, for us, when we were kids – that would have mattered.”

“We were stupid,” Gavin shot back. “We thought we could be heroes but there are no heroes. Look at what happened to me. Look at the police here, the FBI, everyone else. Even _you_ ,” he said, and turned, looking at Dan intently. “It only lasted so far for you.”

The words made him feel cold all over suddenly, but surprisingly, they didn't hit him hard. He was disappointed more than surprised at being lumped in with everyone else in this city.

More than anything else, he couldn't deny it, that previous apathy he'd felt out on the balcony filling him again. It was true. His actions these past few days would be a terrible disappointment to his younger self. And even now he was starting to see the naivety of that young man.

“I really did believe in it once,” Gavin continued quietly. “It did mean something to me, for a long time. But Dan...” he turned to him then, paused for a moment before he reached out and put one hand over Dan's, his touch hesitant but warm.

“I _grew up_ ,” he said, something funnily urgent in his voice. “And maybe you think that's wrong, that everything that happened just broke me somehow, that maybe you can still fix me – but _this is it_ , this is what I am now. This is fixed. This is the only better that I have. And that's as good as it gets for me.”

Dan looked down.

For a long time his resentment had stemmed from the fact that Gavin seemed to have just given up. But now, after all that he himself had gone through, he could see just how easy it was for his values to slip away. How much it made _sense_.

It was awful, and cynical, and lacked the abiding _hope_ that had gotten him through the entirety of his life so far.

But it was something he could _understand_ – perhaps the _only_ thing he could understand right now, and it seemed Gavin felt the same way.

“That seems awfully bleak,” was all he managed to come up with – his voice small, almost childlike, for all his strength feeling as he once always had that he was the one who was young and weak and Gavin, the elder, knew everything – would guide them through this the way he always had.

As it was, Gavin gave a gentle smile, his hand shifting to fold more tightly around Dan's.

“But it's not,” he said softly. “I'm _happy_ , Dan. I have the others. The six of us, that's all we need. I was really bloody alone after you... after you were gone. And they helped, okay. They were all I had and they mean so much to me and that's _enough_. We make it work. And I guess maybe that's the only good I still believe in, and it's a lot better than no good at all. Which is what the rest of this damn city seems to have.”

_Happy,_ Dan thought, feeling suddenly almost numb. _Happy_.

It had been too long since he felt anything even close to the sort. And _what do I have?_ He realised suddenly. What had he had for the last five years?

Nothing, nothing _, nothing_ , even now-

Gavin squeezed his hand hesitantly, then started to pull back, seeming concerned at his silence, but Dan caught at his fingers, holding him still. Looked up at him and realised suddenly, almost feverishly, _you could still have Gavin, if you let yourself._

_That's not nothing_.

For a moment they sat staring at each other. The silence now charged with something else, some shared understanding. Dan thought maybe Gavin could see it in his face, that he _got it_ now, that after everything that had happened maybe he was no longer so much afraid of the coming change as resigned to it.

And he'd thought it selfish, to choose Gavin and his own happiness over his morals, his principles, everyone else in the city. But he remembered suddenly what Geoff had told him the first time they spoke. _Everything I've done, I've done for myself and the people I love._ _I won't give that up for other people who don't give a fuck about me._

For all the good he'd done – or tried to do – was he not terribly alone?

Was Gavin not the only person who gave a damn about him now?

This day had been too long and given him too much to mull over. An exhaustion was setting in that was making it hard for him to think clearly. But oddly, he felt far more relaxed than he had in a long time, like some resignation had set in – like now that he'd made a choice all he had to do was stick to it and the rest would follow – and it seemed Gavin could tell that, even if Dan hadn't made a reply, as he squeezed his hand again before pulling back.

“We can talk more tomorrow,” he said, and Dan nodded.

“Yeah.”

They clambered to their feet, Gavin grimacing a little and clutching at his side as he got up. Dan reached out and steadied him before moving to close the balcony door. The room was freezing by now and Gavin quickly moved to help him take spare blankets out to the couch.

“Thanks again for helping us,” he said, as he laid out the bedding and then turned to return to Ray.

Dan frowned a bit. “I told you to stop thanking me.”

“I know, but.” Gavin shifted hesitantly. “I know this is hard. And that you didn't ask for any of this.”

“Neither of us asked for any of this,” Dan replied without thinking. And realised then that _this_ wasn't just their immediate situation but everything else that had happened, the turns of fate that had pulled them apart, pulled their _lives_ apart, but by some stroke of luck reunited them again. It was a great chance, and he remembered again what Geoff had said, about not wasting the opportunity they had so miraculously been given.

Maybe he had never been as selfless as he'd always liked to think.

Gavin gave a small smile. He looked tired still, but less wary.

“Goodnight then,” he said.

“'night B.”

It slipped out again without him really thinking about it. Too easily was he thinking of Gavin again as the old friend he'd known, falling back into old habits, but this time he couldn't even bring himself to catch himself or take it back. Not when Gavin froze – taking in the word in a way he hadn't when Dan said it earlier, too caught up in the panic of their situation and Ray's injuries – and then slowly, hesitantly, he smiled, as though not quite able to believe what he'd just heard, and then looked away almost shyly and slunk quickly off to the bedroom without reply.

Dan slumped back against the couch. His gaze fell across the room to the art propped upright on the table. In the dim light Michael looked as dark as Lucifer.

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face.

The priceless Rembrandt was sitting on his table.

There were two wanted criminals sleeping in his bed.

His whole job had basically gone to shit.

Yet somehow he felt better today than he had in a long time. And the weird peace he was starting to come to, the understanding with Gavin – that was some progress, at least, he didn't know in what direction. But he felt more sure of his decisions today than he had before – he at least knew that he was going to stick with them – and it was enough for him to close his eyes and quite easily sleep.  
  


* * *

* * *

  
“Are you sure we can trust him?” Ray asked.

They'd risen to another cold, brisk morning. Gavin hadn't slept well, his shoulder aching, too worried from the events of the day to rest peacefully despite how exhausted he'd been.

But waking up to Ray poking at his shoulder had been good. The other man looked much livelier today, seeming to have benefited from the rest he'd gotten. Still pale and tired, but able to sit up and talk at least. The hotel room had a double bed and sitting here this morning, huddled up together under the duvet against the crisp morning chill, Gavin didn't feel so on-edge as he had the night before.

“I think so,” he replied. “I don't know. He helped us. He's been protecting us so far.”

“Yeah, but Gav... remember what happened last time?” Ray asked, pulling a face.

Something oddly defensive of Dan rose up in Gavin's chest.

“I thought you liked him,” he said, a bit petulantly.

“I liked him until he hit Jack in the fucking face, _shot_ one of our guys and then climbed out the window and ran off to tell Agent Coal our heist plan,” Ray said drily.

Gavin gestured towards Ray's bandaged chest. “He patched you up.”

“Come on, Gav. You know he did that for you, not me.”

“But he still _did it_ ,” Gavin pointed out, then sighed. “Either way, we don't have much damn choice, do we? We're safe here for now, at least.”

Ray still didn't look happy about it. He shifted in the bed and then winced as the movement jostled his injuries, one hand going to his ribs. Gavin scooted over towards him, concerned, reaching out to stack the pillows up against the wall then ease him back to lean on them.

“Let's not fight,” he said, taking Ray's hand, thumb rubbing gentle circles against his skin. “You just focus on getting better so we can get out of here.”

Ray nodded, giving a small, pained smile. Gavin pulled his hand up and pressed a kiss to Ray's knuckles, scuffed and scraped from where he'd fallen.

“What do you think the Corpirate wants?” Ray asked after a bit. Gavin had filled him in on everything that had happened when he woke up.

“I don't know,” Gavin replied, frowning as he remembered that other delightful problem of theirs. “But he's definitely out to get us. He has people in the police,” he added, “I'm sure of it. How else would he have known about the attack and been able to infiltrate the SWAT force? His guy wasn't just there on his own, he was part of the operation.”

“Can Dan maybe find out more for us?”

“Oooh,” Gavin said dubiously, “I don't know about that. It's one thing for him to protect us, another to actively work against the cops for us.”

“Fair enough,” Ray said.

There was another silence, a little sullen as they both seemed to take in their situation. But Gavin didn't want to be bitter, not this morning when they had so much on their plate already, and he leaned in and cupped Ray's cheek, turning his face towards him to kiss him.

Ray laughed against his lips, keeping still as Gavin moved to angle the kiss better. He rolled his eyes when they pulled apart, reaching out to pinch at Gavin's cheek.

“You know the rule. No banging when broken bones.”

“That wasn't a _let's bang_ kiss,” Gavin protested, and then pulled a face. “Especially not in _Dan's bed_ , dude. Christ.”

Ray laughed again, then grimaced as the motion jolted his ribs. Gavin pushed him gently back against the pillows, then whipped around when he heard a sound from the other room. Dan had left quite early that morning to get some groceries and more medical supplies – waking up Gavin before he left to let him know – and things had been silent since. Gavin exchanged a wary glance with Ray before climbing out of the bed and moving to the bedroom door, cracking it open slightly and peering out.

He relaxed when he spotted Dan closing the door behind him, plastic grocery bags in hand, and glanced back at Ray before moving out to meet him.

“Hey,” he said, and Dan turned towards him.

“Hey,” he replied, moving over to the kitchenette to unpack. Gavin went to help him. He felt oddly shy this morning, trying to gauge just how their relationship had shifted since last night.

Dan didn't seem too tense, though, and as they worked together in silence there was something much calmer between the two of them.

“Ray feeling better?” Dan asked, as they finished up and he started making a cup of tea.

Gavin nodded.

“Yep! I'm confining him to bed rest for now but he does look a lot better today, so. That's one good thing at least.”

“Definitely.” Dan reached back, rubbing his neck. “Sleep okay?”

Gavin nodded. Dan was staring at him and it took him a moment to realise he was checking his injuries. He shifted self consciously, realising he was still wearing Dan's borrowed shirt; they'd shared clothes a hundred times before growing up but it had never felt as suddenly awkward as it did now.

Dan opened his mouth to speak but they both froze when there was a sudden rap at the door, exchanging startled glances.

“Dan,” a muffled male voice called out from beyond. “Good morning, Dan, can I come in?”

“Oh, bloody hell,” Dan hissed, rubbing his hands over his face. “It's fucking Mike! You need to hide.”

Gavin nodded, heading back towards the bedroom, only for Dan to grab his arm.

“Wait, wait,” he whispered, and quickly snatched up the art from the table, shoving it into Gavin's arms, as well as the body armour they'd hung up to dry in the main room. He put a hand on Gavin's shoulder and propelled him back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

“What's going on?” Ray hissed, sitting up in the bed.

“Someone's at the door, I think it's another FBI agent,” Gavin replied. He dumped the stuff on the bed and opened the door just a sliver, peering out.

He saw Dan glance around the room to make sure nothing else suspicious was there, before he moved and opened the door.

“'sup Mike,” he said. He was standing in the doorway, but even from here Gavin could spy the newcomer's head trying to peer suspiciously around him.

“Hey Gruchy! Can I come in?”

“Uhhh,” Dan replied. “Aren't you off to work?”

“Actually Coal wants both of us to come in! Let me in so I'm not standing in the corridor.”

Dan hesitated, then stepped aside, careful not to glance in Gavin's direction. A young man bustled through the door and immediately began looking around; Gavin shifted back a bit, but looked again after a few moments.

“Are you looking for something?” Dan asked, a bit irritably.

Mike pointed to the carpet. “Is that blood?”

_Shit, shit, shit,_ Gavin thought. He and Ray had both dripped onto the carpet when they got in, and they hadn't noticed the stain until now.

From this angle he couldn't see Dan's face. But he was silent for a long moment, before saying, slowly, “Oh, yeah – my stab wound opened up again last night. I banged it climbing out of the chopper.”

“I see,” Mike replied, but didn't sound convinced. “Did you sleep on the couch?” he added, having spotted the blankets.

The guy was a detective for a reason, Gavin noticed with a sinking feeling.

“Uh... yes,” Dan replied, helplessly.

“Why? Didn't they give you a bed?” Mike turned and started towards the bedroom and Gavin ducked back, heart pounding, exchanging an alarmed glance with Ray.

“They did,” Dan's voice rose up, an edge of irritation in it. Mike's footsteps stopped. “Too soft. I didn't like it. Spent a lot of time in the army sleeping with less luxuries than this. So I prefer the couch – now did you actually want to tell me something?”

Gavin chanced another peek out. Mike had turned back to Dan now.

“Yeah. Coal wants everyone at the station, working from there. We're not leaving this city until Ramsey does. Search last night turned up nothing but there's a hell of a lot of media attention and the city's calling in extra forces to try and help find that artwork.”

“Let's not be late then.” Dan grabbed his belongings from the table and held the door open, waiting for Mike to pass out first. When the other man was gone he glanced towards the door where Gavin was – shot him a helpless sort of look before following after him.

Gavin sighed as the door clicked shut behind Dan. He turned to Ray, who was watching cautiously, and forced a smile.

“We're clear for now,” he said, and Ray let out a huff of breath.

They couldn't leave this hotel room. Dan had a day with the police ahead of him – a day where he'd have to continue dodging and lying to protect the two of them. Gavin bit his lip – stuck here he felt very helpless, unable to even keep in touch with Dan to see how he was going.

It seemed all he could do right now was trust him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my own fanmix](http://8tracks.com/8ofhearts/cemetery-of-heroes) for the fic :’)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **t/w: violent death of non-main character**

Dan felt strangely calm as he and Mike drove to the police station.

It had been surreal waking up in the hotel room with the others, all of them on relatively equal terms for once. It had been especially weird having Ray there – Dan had wandered in to check on them before heading out grocery shopping and entered the room to find he and Gavin curled around each other, dead asleep – there had been something too vulnerable in it, something that made him feel ungainly suddenly, intrusive.

Still.

Sleeping on his decision had made things feel much clearer now. Whether what he was doing was right or not, he wasn't going to turn on Gavin – he'd made his decision and he'd stick to it. And even now, just looking at Mike was making him think that the other man was up to something, and the fact that he couldn't trust the police was making his choice rest much more easily on his shoulders.

Speaking of Mike, he was being quiet for once in his life as they drove, being rather more occupied with scooping bits of whipped cream out of his frappé.

Naturally, though, this peace could not last. Before long Dan was mournfully watching the last dregs of Mike's drink slide down his throat, and then the incessant questions started up again.

“So you'd never been to America before this case?” Mike's question was bright, nonchalant, but Dan couldn't help but stiffen anyway.

“Nah.”

“No cases here? Nothing linked before Ramsey?”

“No – it was all domestic stuff. Little gangs, that sort of thing. Pales in comparison to this shit.”

“Ha ha! It must be a bit of a culture shock. But you get used to it.” Mike fiddled with the chewed end of his straw. “Everyone knows it stinks here in AC. Everyone has their own agenda. Bet it's less corrupt over in England.”

“I think almost anywhere would be less corrupt than here.”

“You know it does pay pretty well, selling out to the criminals here – and there's certainly no lack of people looking to buy.”

He was being unexpectedly transparent and Dan shot him a suspicious look. He felt like he was being reeled into a trap of some sort but had no idea how to get out of it.

“I see,” was all he came up with. And then, “Yeah, it certainly seems like you lot don't care much about cracking down on it here.”

“There've been a couple of investigations trying to root out the bad seeds. But nothing thorough enough to stop them popping up again.” Mike was still staring at him. “I bet Ramsey would pay to have someone from our department on his side, if he doesn't already. Especially someone involved in the King case. Heard you still have hold of him over there.”

Dan's mouth had gone very dry. Mike's questions were getting uncomfortably close to hitting the truth and all he could think to do was make a non-committal sort of 'mmm' sound and then make several sharp turns before starting to complain about how everything was on the wrong side of the road, effectively shutting Mike up so that he could concentrate on driving.

 

* * *

 

The activity in the police station had not died down at all. People were still coming in and out – patrolling the streets, bringing in new information – and it didn't help that there was a large crowd of reporters camped outside as well, filming everybody.

Coal had said the media was having a field day with this, and he was right. When Dan got inside and sat in the boardroom industriously typing away at his laptop but doing no actual work, he looked up at the TV screen on the wall that someone had set to the news.

People were in an uproar. Despite the police's interruption of the heist, for all intents and purposes both the Fake AH Crew and the art had gotten away, and people were already calling it the heist of the century – not to mention reporters were digging up fantastical tales of all the Fake AH Crew's past exploits, trying to find out just who they were. All eyes were on Achievement City. If Ramsey had wanted international notoriety, he'd gotten it.

He was watching, transfixed, as footage of the masked crew wearing a variety of bright yellow outfits and starting a very large fire played out on the screen, when Coal burst into the room with a suddenness that made him jump.

“Got anything yet?” he demanded.

Dan shook his head. “No, sorry.”

“There has to be _someone_ here they're working with. When we were chasing them they called in reinforcements – some men to hold us off while they got away.” Coal threw himself into a chair and then flipped the bird at Geoff on the screen above them. “You know, it's weird.”

“What?”

“That they haven't left the city by now. We've kept a close guard on all the exits but they should have made an attempt. With their manpower and firepower, I hate to say it but they probably could come up with a way to get out. But there've been no sightings of them either here or back in AC. They're hiding out. Why?”

Dan swallowed. He knew exactly why; they couldn't go anywhere without Ray and Gavin – or the art – and for the time being those two were indisposed back at his room. He just shrugged, pasting a faintly bewildered look on his face, and Coal sighed and rubbed his temples. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, something faintly manic about his bloodshot eyes.

“Anyway. You keep doing what you're doing. I'm heading back to AC.”

“Why?” Dan asked, surprised. He'd've thought Coal would want to stay here, in the middle of the action.

“They knew exactly what route this art was going to take. Knew how to break into the briefcase too. That means someone helped them – it was a close knit little group who knew what was going on. Not something they could have infiltrated. No, one of those museum nerds was helping them out, and the list is pretty damn small. I'm heading back to question a few people – see if I can work out who it was. They might know something.”

“That sounds good,” Dan replied.

It wasn't a lie. Getting Coal out of the city would be one problem off his hands.

“Casualties just came in from yesterday,” Coal added.

“Casualties?” Dan asked.

Coal nodded grimly. “Police and SWAT. Five dead – including two of our Feds – twelve more injured.”

“God,” Dan said, a little shellshocked. “Any civilians?”

“No.” Coal's fingers drummed angrily against the table. “This is the closest we've been to catching them in a long while,” he added. “I won't let anything fuck this up now. Not when everyone's eyes are on us.”

Dan nodded mutely, even as Coal got up and left the room. He stared blankly at his computer screen, feeling suddenly a bit numb.

_Five dead_. Putting a number to the body count made it seem awful suddenly. This wasn't a game and the choices he was making were having real effects.

He closed his eyes, feeling a little ill as he remembered watching Gavin cave that man's skull in in front of him. How much blood there had been. Even after everything Dan had seen, that had still been horrifying. He realised he and Gavin had never really talked about it.

Maybe he would have been worried if Gavin hadn't seemed phased by it either. But he had been – Dan had seen him throw up afterwards, and refuse to look at his own hands in the car on the drive afterwards, something dull and almost haunted in his eyes. He'd seemed fine this morning, though, and Dan bit his lip as he wondered just how many things his friend had forced himself to get over, to seal away in the back of his mind and try not to think about.

As many as he himself had, perhaps. There was blood on his hands too. Even since arriving in AC he'd killed one of Geoff' mercenaries, back at the bank on that first day. And it had been remarkably easy not to dwell on it, here in this cutthroat city where the only rule, _kill or be killed_ , seemed to become very quickly apparent.

Still. He was helping Gavin but he hadn't signed up to kill anyone – to start actively committing crimes was something else entirely – and he forced himself to turn back to pretending to work, before discreetly starting to look back into who the Corpirate was, thinking it productive to get himself up to date on that front at least.

 

* * *

 

After putting on a great show of busyness all morning, Dan was able to slip out of the station that afternoon and return to the hotel.

He'd looked into the Corpirate and caught himself up on who the man was. Achievement City bigwig. More into the white collar side of crime than Ramsey was. Rich enough to pay off the police and keep himself out of trouble.

Apparently wanted to kill the Fake AH Crew now, for whatever reason.

His floor of the hotel was quiet as usual, which he was very grateful for. He'd felt faintly nervous all day, worried that a cleaner would come in and find Gavin and Ray, or that the two of them would make some noise and one of the other detectives staying in the building would get suspicious – that somehow something would happen and they would all be caught out.

But all seemed to be well as he entered the room, taking two steps inside before he paused at the sight of Ray sitting on the couch, watching him and eating trail mix.

“Welcome back,” Ray said flatly.

“Uh,” Dan said awkwardly, shutting the door behind him. “Hi.”

He felt strangely unsettled around Ray, especially since Gavin was nowhere to be seen. Gavin may be able to forgive him for ratting them out, but Ray was another matter, and being alone here with him now had Dan unsure how to act.

“How are you feeling?” he asked finally, and looked around. “Where's Gav?”

“I'll live,” Ray replied. He was still pale and bruised, and hadn't moved from where he was sitting, but there was something sharp and alert in his eyes, and Dan suddenly didn't doubt that though he might be injured, he was still very dangerous. “Gavin's in the bedroom. He fell asleep.”

“Right. No one came to the door while I was gone?”

Ray shook his head. There was a moment of very awkward silence before Dan moved to make himself a cup of tea. Every time he glanced over at Ray it was to find the other man staring at him and methodically picking out raisins and putting them in his mouth.

“So how was work?” Ray asked finally, as Dan poured his tea. “Coal suspicious of us?”

“No. He's going back to AC today, so he'll be out of our hair.”

“Funny how he ended up in our hair in the first place.”

Dan's head snapped up. Of course Gavin had told him, why wouldn't he? Ray didn't look outwardly angry but somehow there was something even worse about his blank calmness.

“That doesn't matter now,” he began, and Ray raised an eyebrow.

“Doesn't it? My ribs beg to differ.”

“As if you expected to get away unchallenged.”

“Our plan would have worked a lot more smoothly if someone hadn't ratted it out to the police.” Something flashed in Ray's eyes and Dan stiffened as he very pointedly crunched a handful of nuts between his teeth.

Dan had never seen someone manage to so aggressively eat a cashew before.

“I helped you,” he said quietly. “You'd both be dead if it wasn't for me.”

“Don't expect me to thank you when you fucking got us in that position in the first place.”

“You got yourselves there,” Dan snapped, “You _chose_ to steal that art. You know the consequences of your actions. I said it to Gav and I'll say it to you – don't you bloody well put this on me. Trying to stop a robbery is not something I'll be ashamed of.”

“What about betraying Gavin?” Ray shot back, and Dan snapped his mouth shut. “He _trusted_ you. Jesus, Dan, do you know how fucking much you're capable of hurting him?”

_He's just as capable of hurting me_ , Dan thought angrily – and that was the problem, really – but he didn't say it, didn't like admitting that sudden vulnerability.

“So you helped us,” Ray continued, “So for now we're fine, we're safe. But you are fucking _lucky_ because let me tell you, if things had gone down differently – if I had died or been hurt worse – Geoff would not be letting you off the hook. Hell, I already don't know if he will after you fucked the heist over so badly. Gavin will probably win him over but if I had been killed back there... there's shit even Gavin can't forgive you for. And getting one of us hurt is crossing that line.”

“And what about the stuff _I_ need to forgive _Gavin_ for?” Dan demanded. Ray had a point but it was a meagre one, and it had him defensive. Suddenly angry, he stepped forward, looming up over the other man. “You know what, Narvaez, fuck you. You're all acting like me coming back here is some dreadful inconvenience for you all, well guess what, I didn't want any of this either. I love Gav. He's like a brother to me. And having to choose between him and everything I believe in has not been fucking easy. I'm the one who's had to give up everything here so don't you dare fucking play the victim.”

Ray looked a little startled by his sudden vehemence. Then he looked away, face carefully blank.

Dan turned away and angrily drank his tea, biting back a curse when he scalded his tongue a little. He stayed facing away from Ray, taking a moment to calm down.

His anger fizzled away eventually into something dull and disappointed.

Of course Ray was mad at him. From the other's point of view he'd done nothing but upset Gavin, put all his boyfriends in danger and get Ray himself pretty damn badly injured. The rest of the Fake AH Crew didn't know him like Gavin did. They didn't see his attempts to do good as the noble actions that Dan had hoped them to be. They just saw them as stupidity, that Achievement City cynicism setting in in all of them again.

And it was starting to set in in Dan as well. Even now he was starting to question – who the fuck really cared if an etching went missing? It was just a chunk of metal and a drawing. It wasn't worth Gavin's life to him.

And maybe it should still have mattered – maybe it should have been the principle of all of it to him – but suddenly things didn't seem as black and white as all that.

He sighed, turning back around – Ray was picking at the edge of the blanket, not looking at him now.

“Gavin and I worked things out between us yesterday,” Dan said quietly. “Pretty much, anyway. This isn't a trap. I don't know what the hell I'm doing, but for now I'm helping you guys. Okay?”

Ray looked up at him. He opened his mouth to reply but before he could there came a thunderous knock at the door. It made both of them jump, Ray's hand going to his hip, to a gun that wasn't there.

They exchanged alarmed glances. Then Ray tried to get up off the couch only to stumble, hand going to his ribs as he bit down on his lip, stifling a cry of pain. Dan moved up by his side and looped an arm around his waist, supporting his weight as he helped him limp to the bedroom. He caught a glimpse of Gavin, still asleep – the noise hadn't even woken him up; he must be exhausted – before depositing Ray on the bed.

“Stay here,” Dan hissed, and Ray nodded. Dan shut the bedroom door behind him before going to see who it was. His heart was slamming nervously and he didn't even realise his hand was at his gun until he reached the door. He kicked himself – _you're not here to shoot anyone, Jesus_ – before opening the door a sliver.

Great.

Mike _again._

Dan started to open his mouth, annoyed, before he realised that Mike had a very different look on his face. His usual insipid smile had been replaced but a lazier, crooked grin, something almost cunning in it.

“Hey Dan,” he said. “You took off from the station pretty quickly earlier.”

“Do you need something?” Dan snapped, some weird sort of dread filling him.

Mike nodded. “I do, actually. Aren't you gonna invite me in?”

He shouldered his way past Dan before the other man could protest, striding into the centre of the hotel room and glancing around. Dan followed him cautiously, careful not to look towards the bedroom door.

“You know Dan,” Mike continued then, “You're a really bad liar.”

Something cold settled in the pit of Dan's stomach. His hand started automatically going to his gun again and this time he kept it there, his heart pounding in his chest.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he tried, but it sounded unconvincing even to his own ears, and Mike laughed.

“It's been really funny watching you attempt to act natural the whole time you've been here,” he said. “Like... dude, seriously, the only reason Coal hasn't called you out on it is because he doesn't really care. As long as you're finding the Fake AH Crew for him he doesn't give a fuck who else you're working for.”

“I'm not working for anyone,” Dan began, but Mike rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, and I bet you're not hiding anything in this hotel room either.”

Dan stiffened and Mike laughed again.

“I mean, seriously, you were really obvious about it. Blood on the floor? Getting antsy every time I come to visit you? Rushing back here whenever you get the chance? I don't know if you've killed someone and you're stashing the body in here, or if you're hiding someone, some _thing_ – and quite frankly I don't give a fuck. I just need your help with something.”

“My help,” Dan began, and Mike nodded.

“Yeah. You have your secrets, I have mine. Right now I need someone to give me a hand with something and you seem like just the guy. Help me out and I won't go looking for whatever it is you're keeping in that bedroom.” He nodded his head towards the closed door and Dan took a half-step forward, breath catching in his throat in alarm. Mike noticed and grinned at him smugly.

“Are you blackmailing me?” Dan demanded, and Mike shrugged.

“That's such a nasty term, but... yeah, I guess I am. Oh, Dan,” he sighed, noticing his gun, “You can't shoot me. Well, you could, but people would hear. There are five other cops on this floor and they'd come running right away. So put the gun down, won't you, and come with me? It won't take long, I promise. Then you can get back to whatever the fuck you're up to in here.”

Dan hesitated. He had no idea what to do. Mike was smiling, smiling, _smiling_ away at him, and he couldn't shoot him – couldn't make any sort of commotion without alerting the others on this floor that something was going on-

He had very little choice, really.

“Fine,” he said quietly, hoping to God that whatever Mike wanted help with would be quick and easy – then he'd have to get Ray and Gavin out of here as soon as possible, now that they'd been compromised.

Mike smiled wider.

“Great!” he said. He gestured towards the door and Dan glared at him, moving to leave, only for Mike to grab his arm.

“Leave your phone,” he said pleasantly. “You won't need it.”

Dan scowled – he may not trust Coal but it would be nice to at least have _someone_ he could call for help if things went sour here – but did as Mike asked, acutely aware of Ray and Gavin sitting vulnerable behind that bedroom door. Mike patted him condescendingly on the shoulder before leading him out of the room.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Gavin was pulled groggily from sleep by someone shaking his shoulder, hard. He groaned – taking a few long moments to actually wake up.

His lack of sleep and the stress of his injuries had caught up to him earlier, making him practically pass out now that they were sitting around in the hotel room with nothing to do. He felt awful now, mind cloudy from sleep, and it took him a while to focus on Ray, sitting next to him on the bed and shaking him frantically.

“Come on, Gav, we gotta move.”

“Move?” Gavin questioned, blinking hard a few times as he tried to work out what was going on. Slowly he got his bearings back and remembered where they were – the hotel room – all was quiet outside and Ray was sitting next to him. He was half dressed, jacket askew on his shoulders, body armour on the bed beside him.

A phone in his hand.

Gavin sat up a bit, more alert now. None of them carried phones on heists, not wanting to have anything on them in case something went wrong and they got captured – the intercom served the purpose anyway.

“Where's Dan?” he asked.

“Gone out again,” Ray replied. “With that other FBI guy.”

“Mike?"

“Yeah,” Ray said. “He knew something was up. Knew Dan was keeping something in here. Said if he wanted him to stay quiet, he had to go with him and do something.”

“Something? What's something?”

“Dude, I know fuck-all, that's all I heard. But you need to get up,” Ray pulled at his arm again. “Adam's coming to pick us up.”

“What?” Gavin asked, still very confused even as Ray thrust his jacket at him. “What do you mean, pick us up?”

“I mean we're getting out of here.” Ray waved the phone. “I called Geoff. Told him what was going on. He said he'd send Adam over to get us.”

“We can't just _leave_ ,” Gavin protested.

“Why not?” Ray asked.

Gavin spluttered. “Because – _because_! This building is full of cops, how the hell will we get out?”

“Sneak down the fire escape, same way you said we got in. They won't recognise Kovic. He'll pick us up from there. It's better than sitting in here waiting for that FBI dude to come back and fuck us over!”

“You can barely walk.”

“Barely walking is still _walking_ ,” Ray pointed out.

“What about Dan?”

“What about him?” Ray challenged, and Gavin hesitated.

“We can't just leave him,” he said. Skipping out on Dan felt like a betrayal suddenly, and he wasn't quite sure why. Maybe because Dan had risked so much to bring them here that just leaving without telling him first seemed awful.

“We'll be getting out of his hair,” Ray said, then tugged at Gavin's arm again. “Come _on_ , this is our chance to leave. Adam's already on his way over. We can't just sit around here for days and days, Gav, we need to move _now_.”

Numbly Gavin moved to obey, since it seemed everyone else had planned this all already. They dressed quickly and packed the art back into Ray's bag. Gavin couldn't help but frown at how slowly the other man was still moving – he had a terrible limp and could little more than hobble. Leaving would be risky. But Gavin knew that Ray was right; staying when they didn't know what was happening with Mike and Dan could be even more dangerous.

Or so he told himself, anyway. He knew that the others still didn’t trust Dan and that that was the reason they were trying to get them out of here as soon as possible.

“What about when Dan comes back?” Gavin asked, when they were just about ready to go.

Ray glanced at him and Gavin frowned, a little irritated by the others' dismissal of his friend.

“I mean it, Ray, we can't just up and _disappear_. What the hell is he meant to do? We're all in this together now, we at least need to leave him a note, a way of contacting us. What the fuck is he meant to do when he comes back and finds us gone, huh? He took care of us. So we gotta take care of him as well.”

Ray bit his lip, looking a little apologetic now.

“I know, Gav. We're not just gonna leave him in the lurch.”

“But?"

“But I don't know. That's Geoff's call to make, not mine.”

“It should be all of us,” Gavin argued, “We should all work out what to do together.”

“Well, we can't exactly do that here and now. Just come on, _please_ , and you can talk it over with Geoff.” Ray put his ear to the door, listening to the hallway outside, then turned to Gavin and gave a nod. “Sounds clear out there.”

Gavin hesitated once more. Just up and leaving on Dan seemed a horrible idea to him. Ignoring Ray's hushed whispers to hurry up, he took Dan's mobile again and sent a text message to the phone itself – just a quick _sorry, had to go, we'll be in touch_ – before leaving it on the table unopened. At least he had a number he could contact Dan on now, anyway.

Hopefully Geoff would have a better idea of what they should be doing. Dan couldn't keep hanging around with the police, Gavin knew, it was growing too risky. But yet again they were forced to be on the move with no time to stop and sort things out. He could only hope that whatever was going on with Mike, Dan could deal with it, and then they could talk to him – with Geoff and all the others – about where to go from here.

Picking up the bag, he moved to the door with Ray. They exchanged a glance before Gavin quietly eased it open, peering out into the hallway outside. Finding it empty, he ushered Ray out and then, supporting him around the waist, the two of them limped quickly towards the fire escape.

Gavin's own injuries felt better today; his shoulder still hurt but his ankle was able to support his weight, and together they weren't too slow. They got into the stairwell with no drama and headed down to the ground floor where they paused to wait for Adam. Ray was breathing heavily, sucking in little shallow breaths so as not to aggravate his ribs, and Gavin cast him a concerned glance.

It hurt, the way it always hurt, to see one of his boyfriends injured. And it had been hard not to blame Dan for causing them to get into that trouble in the first place. But it was the Corpirate's guy who'd shot at them, not Dan himself – Gavin could only hope the others would all see it that way.

Speaking of.

“Why didn't you wake me up?” he demanded suddenly.

Ray turned to him. “What?”

“When Dan came home. Why didn't you wake me up?”

“You looked tired, man,” Ray began, but Gavin could tell that wasn't the full story.

He eyed Ray suspiciously for a moment before saying, “You wanted to talk with him alone.”

Ray just shrugged, and Gavin's frown deepened.

He was still very, very wary of what all his boyfriends thought about Dan. God knew Gavin's feelings on the matter were up and down as fuck, and the only thing pulling him through was that abiding, underlying _loyalty_ born of how close they had been, for such a long time.

The others didn't have that.

They'd been so rushed the last few days, distracted by the heist, that Gavin hadn't had the chance to gauge how they felt. He was pretty sure that even if they hadn't said anything about it, they were all still mad about Dan tricking him and hitting Jack – let alone turning in their heist plans. He wondered just how angry Geoff would be about that.

“What did you say to him?” he asked.

“We talked some,” Ray replied vaguely – he could be as enigmatic as Ryan when he wanted to be – but he must have seen the worry on Gavin's face, because he reached out and pressed his arm.

“Relax, Vav. Look, I was mad at him at first. Why would I be? He nearly got all of us killed over his stupid morals.”

“That's not-”

“But we talked,” Ray barrelled on, and gave a wry sort of smile. “And maybe I sometimes forget that morals aren't stupid to everyone. Fuck, Dan's terrible do-the-right-thing complex is probably the only reason he felt bad enough to help us.”

“I trust him,” Gavin said fiercely, and Ray nodded.

“I know. And I trust that he loves you enough to have properly picked our side by now. Maybe he fucked us over a few times but I don't believe he ever did it to hurt you. And I think he's past the point of no return now, whether he knows it or not. So when it comes time for our happy little group discussion about what to do about all this, I've got your back. Okay?”

“Okay,” Gavin replied, feeling a sudden surge of relief at knowing that at least one of his boyfriends was in his corner.

Ray grinned a bit. “Although as far as charming him went, I'm pretty sure he hates me now.”

“Aw, Ray! What'd you do?”

“We pissed each other off a bit. It's cool though. People get honest when they're angry. And that's what I needed from him.”

Gavin nodded. He squeezed Ray's hand and they smiled at each other before they heard a car pull up outside the fire door. There was a brief commotion outside before the door swung open and Kovic poked his head in.

“There you are. Ready to go home now?”

 

* * *

 

Michael was the first to hug Gavin, the minute they set foot into Funhaus, grabbing him tight and yanking him close. Gavin hugged him back desperately, almost surprised at the rush of emotion that nearly overwhelmed him; he'd been pushing it back, focused on fixing things with Dan and taking care of Ray, but it hit him now how _scared_ he'd been – how scared they _all_ must have been – things going as wrong as they had.

“Fuck, fuck – you're okay,” Michael was mumbling, pressing his face into the junction between Gavin's neck and shoulder – Gavin pulled his own arms tighter around Michael's back, leaning down to press a kiss against his hair.

“Michael, I'm fine Michael,” he whispered – only to wince a bit when Michael's next movement jostled his shoulder wound. Michael noticed, of course, and frowned, pulling back. He tugged the collar of Gavin's shirt aside to inspect the injury.

“How'd that happen?” he demanded.

“Long story,” Gavin replied tiredly. Ryan was already nudging Michael aside so he could have a look – Jack and Geoff fussing over Ray nearby.

Ryan rubbed the material of Gavin's shirt between his fingers and he looked down to realise he was still wearing Dan's.

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked quietly.

Gavin looked up at him. Felt another wave of emotion at the soft concern in his eyes.

“I'm fine,” he replied. He reached to tug the shirt up to cover his shoulder again, but Ryan caught his hand.

“Are you _okay_ ,” he repeated, and Gavin realised then that he wasn't just talking about the physical injuries he'd sustained. He gave a small smile and nodded, and Ryan's face relaxed a little in relief. He brought his hand up to cup Gavin's cheek and pulled him in for a gentle kiss. When they pulled apart Gavin couldn't help but notice how tired Ryan looked, dark circles around his eyes accompanied by faint smudges where he hadn't quite washed all his face paint off. He licked his thumb and reached up to rub one of the marks away, Ryan laughing and squirming back.

Jack smiled at Gavin as he turned towards him – the other man was close by Ray's side, one arm around his shoulders, and didn't seem about to move any time soon. He always got the fussiest when one of them was badly injured and Gavin couldn't fault him for wanting to stick close to him. Geoff, however, moved over to Gavin, taking him by the hand and leading him away from the others a little.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Gavin replied, but Geoff ran his hands down him anyway, inspecting his shoulder, fingers brushing over the bruises on his throat, straightening his shirt a bit – frowning when he realised it belonged to someone else.

“Dan really helped you,” he began.

“ _Yes_ ,” Gavin replied, starting to get sick of having to repeat it over and over. “All he did was help us. Even now he's fucked if anyone finds out. I know you're mad at him, Geoff, but he-”

“I can forgive him if he saved your life,” Geoff cut in, and Gavin stared at him for a moment before relaxing, letting out a startled sort of laugh. Since Dan came back he'd worried far too much about the others – been scared of them reacting much more harshly than they really would. And here, it seemed, he'd underestimated Geoff's compassion. He kicked himself, feeling embarrassed suddenly for letting his fears get the better of him so much.

“When your comms went offline...” Geoff trailed off, and Gavin swallowed hard. For all that heists were exciting, they all knew that fear of something going wrong – of someone's intercom cutting out – of not knowing if one of the others was injured, was dead or alive. It was hell every time.

“A grenade went off. Brought down the construction in the mall. That's what knocked Ray out.”

“You got him out of there,” Geoff said, and looked over to where the other three were still fussing over Ray – Michael was clutching his hand tightly, Jack was still fixed to his side, and even Ryan was hovering around him and leaning in now and then to gently press his arm. Gavin couldn't help but smile a bit; Ray might be perhaps the most combat competent of all of them, but he was still the youngest, and there was some innate protectiveness they all held towards him.

“ _Dan_ and I got him out of there,” he corrected, and Geoff nodded.

Gavin remembered then, and reached up to rub his shoulder. “The guy who attacked us – he looked like he was with SWAT, but he tried to kill me. Told me the Corpirate had sent him.”

“The Corpirate?”

“Yeah. Looks like he's out to get us.”

“It was bound to happen eventually,” Geoff said, running a hand through his hair. He looked very tired. “We can deal with that when we get back to AC.”

Gavin nodded. Geoff sighed, then, and Gavin reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

“At least we're all back together now,” he said, and Geoff nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Gavin kissed him quickly before turning back to the others. It was about time for a group meeting.

 

* * *

 

“It's sort of underwhelming,” Michael said.

Ryan waved his hands about and made a series of very indignant spluttering noises.

“Do you have any idea how incredible this is?” he demanded. “It's fucking _Rembrandt_. He's one of the greatest artists in European history!”

“Yeah but it's... I don't know. I was expecting to be blown away but it kind of looks like just a drawing. A really good drawing but... y'know. Meh.”

“It's a print, not a drawing,” Ryan began, then sighed, shaking his head. “No sense of culture. No appreciation for art.”

“I think it's top Ryan,” Gavin announced.

“Thank you Gavin. You're my favourite.”

“He's totally not just saying that to get laid later,” Geoff said, and Gavin shot him a small grin.

“Why is the glass scratched?” Jack asked with a frown, leaning forward to thumb at the case the print was in.

“Dan sat on it,” Gavin replied, and there was a chorus of groans.

“When we go to hell it won't be for stealing this thing,” Ray muttered. “It'll be for desecrating a picture of – what are these meant to be? Angels?”

“I think the news guy said it was meant to be Saint Michael,” Ryan said, tilting his head at it.

Ray and Geoff both turned towards Michael and opened their mouths, but Jack cut in before they could make any more jokes.

“Let's focus a little, guys – what's the police situation right now?”

“Still something of a manhunt going on,” Geoff replied, attention returning to the matter at hand. “They know we're still in the city but it won't be hard for us to get out. Kdin can bring in a chopper.”

“So when are we leaving?” Jack asked.

“Uh... as soon as possible?” Geoff said. “I can call Kdin now and he can be over here in an hour.”

“Wait, what about Dan?” Gavin asked.

There was a moment of awkward silence. He could see the others exchanging glances.

“We can't just leave without telling him,” Gavin continued.

“Ray, you said he was out with some FBI guy right now. What's he want him to do?” Geoff asked.

“Dunno,” Ray said, very helpfully, and shrugged. “Whoever he was, he seemed to have his own agenda. But that doesn't mean we can trust him not to rat Dan out to Coal.”

“Dan did already sell us out,” Michael pointed out quietly. “He told Coal about our heist.”

“He didn't know what he was doing,” Gavin replied. “Besides, he _helped us_. And we talked a lot while I was over there. He's coming around.”

“Gav...” Jack's voice was gentle but chiding. “That's sort of exactly what you said last time, remember?”

Gavin glanced over at him. Felt another twinge of guilt at the still-fading bruise on the other's face.

“It's different now,” he insisted. “He saved us and he's done too much now to turn back. He really is on our side.”

“So what do you want him to do then?” Ryan asked. “Join us?”

“At least stick with us. Come back to AC and stay at our base while we all lay low for a little bit and let this blow over. And not as a prisoner, either,” he added.

Geoff was frowning. “That's not a risk we can take. We can't just have randoms hanging around our base, especially if we're not certain we can trust them. People are either with us or against us.”

“Haven't we been saying that nothing's black and white here?” Gavin shot back, and Geoff looked at him for a moment before sighing.

“Either way we need to get out of here,” he said. “There's a spotlight on this city since it's where the art disappeared from. Let's get back to AC and get that art off our hands. We need to sell it soon – with things going wrong and you two getting separated, we're already behind schedule.”

“For now it's better for us to be away anyway,” Ryan said, seeming to sense Gavin's remaining distress. “If we're gone there's nothing for this Mike guy to hold over Dan.”

Gavin frowned. The others still hadn't given him a definite answer and he got the feeling that they were brushing off the issue just because they didn't want to argue about it or deal with it right now. But the others were already moving on to talk about what they'd do once they sold the art – the plans they'd discussed before the heist about how to operate when there'd be so much attention on them – how they should be checking out the Corpirate – and things were moving so fast that Gavin felt awkward trying to redirect the subject back to Dan when it seemed none of the others were concerned with it right now.

_I guess we do just need to get back to AC_ , he thought. _We can contact Dan from there. He can deal with this Mike thing himself for now. After that it's better for us to be out of his way. Then he can choose if he wants to come stay with us or not_.

There was still some faint worry nagging at him, but Ray, sitting beside him, reached out and squeezed his hand under the table, and Gavin glanced across and gave him a faint smile, reassured that at least one other person was concerned about it. And they would deal with this – they just had other things to sort out first.

 

* * *

* * *

 

“So who are you really, then?” Dan asked quietly as they drove.

Mike glanced over at him and barked out a brief laugh. “There's no need to sound so dramatic, man. I'm still _Mike_ , I'm _me_ , just, y'know. Do a little on the side, make some extra money.”

“You're a dirty cop,” Dan muttered – it had been obvious for a while but having it confirmed still stung a little, somehow – he hadn't exactly trusted Mike but any residual hope he'd had in the law enforcement of this city was going steadily down the toilet.

Mike just shrugged.

“So are you,” he replied.

Dan opened his mouth to protest, then paused – for all intents and purposes, Mike was _right_. He was helping the Fake AH Crew and that made him as corrupt as anyone else in this city.

Once again, the thought didn't revile him as much as it once would have. Just that tired, jaded _acceptance – Of course I am. What else could I be here?_

“Anyway,” Mike continued cheerfully, “No need to stress out about it. Like I said, I just need a hand. You help me, I turn a blind eye to you – shit sticks together, y'know?”

“Right,” Dan replied, flatly. “So what do you need me to do?”

It took him a moment to realise that they were actually headed out of town, towards the outskirts of the city. He hoped Mike wasn't about to take him all the way to AC – surely not. It'd take forever to get back.

Mike humm'd for a moment before replying.

“In the particular area I help Coal with I have access to a lot of goods info – trades, deal, the like – where the gov has customs agents planted and so on. So I can help facilitate the movement of... produce, so to speak. Two of my contacts have recently gotten into business with the Corpirate and part of what he wants them to do is scope out competition.”

Dan stiffened at the mention of the man.

“Anyway,” Mike continued, “We've got a list of names and I ned you to tell me if you recognise any of them as Ramsey's. Some of them are English guys. You know more about it than me. Then we need your manpower taking out one of the groups near here. No biggie.”

“I see,” Dan replied flatly. He turned to stare morosely out the window, unsure how he was going to deal with this. Mike obviously didn't realise that he was actually on Ramsey's side – probably thought he was working for someone else and just happened to be on this investigation – so maybe he could get away with lying. It'd depend.

Still. It was an annoying situation to be stuck in – and as he glanced across at Mike he realised that he could very easily deal with it by killing or incapacitating him here and now.

_Jesus Christ you're not killing anyone_ , he chided himself – horrified that it was the first solution that'd popped into his head. Sure, Mike was obviously not a good guy, but cold blooded murder rather than trying to report or arrest him...

_Report him to who? Coal's just as fishy. You don't know anyone else here. Would anyone even care? Aren't they all as bad as each other?_

_So what? Let him go free the way you're letting Gav go free? Or start just killing people who are putting you in danger-_

_Exactly the way Gavin started killing people and getting into shit back in England?_

Perhaps it should have been unsettling how easy it was starting to become to understand how Gavin had become what he had. How he was beginning to fall into the same things. But it wasn't – now it just seemed a fact of life. _Him or me._

_I don't want to lose_.

It wasn't long before they drew up at some large factory outlets towards the edge of the city. Mike took them into a quiet area; a large undercover car park near a closed building, only a couple of other empty vehicles in the vicinity.

“Look alive now,” Mike said.

He waited for Dan to get out of the car first, and stayed a little way behind him as they headed across the car park. Dan quickly realised it was a warning not to try anything; Mike was armed, though he wasn't directly pointing his weapon at Dan. Dan was a little surprised Mike hadn't taken his gun from him; he supposed he was going to need it in whatever nefarious operation Mike and his contacts supposedly needed his help on.

Said contacts were standing on the other side of the lot, leaning against the pillars and smoking.

“We're here!” Mike called out as they approached, and the two turned.

Dan's stomach sank.

Of course. Of fucking _course_ it was Huang and Carver Mike was working with now – the connection had entirely slipped his mind. They were smugglers after all – and, he remembered, had piss against Ramsey. That made them prime recruits for the Corpirate.

He had no idea how this was going to play out, but he saw the shock on the two's faces as they recognised him. They exchanged a glance with each other before pulling their weapons, and both Mike and Dan started back in alarm. Huang had a pistol but Carver a bloody sawed-off shotgun, and Dan stepped away from Mike a bit, hand going to his own gun.

“Whoah, what the fuck, guys?” Mike asked.

Huang's head swivelled between the two of them suspiciously. “What the hell is going on here, Mike?”

“What do you mean?”

“What are you doing with him?”

Mike turned to Dan, eyes wide. “He's the guy I was telling you about.”

“You said you had a corrupt English detective you could talk into helping us,” Carver snarled, “Not a fucking mercenary working for Ramsey.”

“ _What_ ,” Mike said.

Dan's heart was pounding. He had his own gun out by now but wasn't sure which of the three he should be pointing it at – whether he should be going along with or denying the accusation.

“He doesn't work for Ramsey!” Mike protested. “I swear to God he's a cop – show them your badge!”

“I was investigating Ramsey; that's why I came to talk to you,” Dan said finally, thinking that perhaps the only way to avoid a shootout here and now. He didn't go for his badge, not wanting to make a sudden move.

Huang and Carver were backing up – her gun still trained at Dan, his at Mike. Neither of them looked convinced.

“Besides, you were ready to help me try and get employed by him,” Dan pointed out, keeping his voice level. “What's the problem now?”

“Problem is we're working for the Corpirate now,” Huang said, voice tight. “That makes us Ramsey's enemies and if you're working for him...”

“I'm not working for him,” Dan said calmly, but Mike was eying him too now, looking like he was regretting not looking into this situation more before bringing Dan along. If all three of them turned against him he was done for. “I'm not! All I was doing was looking into him for this case. _That's all_.”

Huang narrowed her eyes at him, and Dan swallowed, nervous under her scrutiny. But after a moment she shook her head.

“No – I don't believe you,” she said. “It was more than that. I don't like this – Carver, c'mon.”

It seemed she was more perceptive than he'd thought – that or for all his attempts to act natural he really was a very, _very_ bad liar – but it didn't matter now. They'd been spooked, he could see it – they were on edge and the deal was over -

The best thing was to let them go now.

Unfortunately Mike did not seem to see that.

“Wait, come on!” he said. “You can't just _go_ , we were going to-”

“You can fuck off,” Huang said, “This is smelling more and more like a setup! If he's not working for Ramsey then what the hell is he, an _actual_ cop? You can't be bringing someone like him here Mike, he's gonna get us all busted, probably already has.”

She turned and started to walk off – Dan began to back away, sensing the rising tensions – but Mike, still foolishly thinking he could salvage this, it seemed, started forward and made a grab for her arm.

Things happened very fast after that.

Huang wrenched her arm out of Mike's grasp and angrily shoved him back, hard enough to make him stumble-

Mike yelled in surprise as he caught himself, hand going to his gun automatically at being pushed-

And Carver – Carver, who had been very quiet all along but looking steadily more paranoid at the situation –

Carver raised his gun and shot Mike in the head.

The volume and suddenness made Dan jump nearly out of his skin. He automatically leaped back, arms rising like they could protect him. Huang screamed, more in shock than anything else, and a stunned silence descended over all of them in the wake of things.

Dan's ears were ringing.

He watched as Mike's body fell back to the ground. Close range like that and with a shotgun? It had obliterated him to the point that there was little left of his head. Dan was still too stunned to make any move and the other two, for a minute, were as well – Huang staring at the body slack jawed for a moment before she turned to Carver – who stood frozen, gun still raised – and slapped him in the arm before declaring, eloquently: “ _Dude_.”

The word snapped them all out of it. Carver's eyes turned to Dan next, Huang following his gaze, and there was an awkward pause as they seemed to realise that dirty or not they had just shot one of his fellow law enforcement in front of him. There would be no walking away from that.

Dan saw Carver move the gun towards him and dove back, throwing himself behind one of the concrete car park pillars just as the shot rang out. He heard the dull thud as the shot peppered the wall hard enough to take out chunks, and yanked his own weapon out.

His heart was pounding, fear a tight coil in his chest, but his hand and breathing were steady as he glanced out to see where they were. Carver was reloading but Huang fired at him now, advancing – they traded shots for a minute, Dan ducking back for cover as she emptied half her clip at him at once, going for quantity rather than precision – but the minute she let up he emerged again and fired wildly, aiming for Carver first.

He got lucky; his first shot got him in the arm and he dropped his raised shotgun; he stumbled back when hit and Dan's second caught him in the chest. He dropped like a stone and Huang let out a furious cry. She began to shoot again but Dan was quicker – he got her in the shoulder, then the leg, and she went down.

Silence fell in the car park – Dan breathing heavily now as the adrenaline faded. It surged back up a second later, when he saw Huang's hand creeping for her fallen gun near where she lay – _tough bitch_. He darted forward and kicked it away, and she slumped back with a groan.

“Don't move,” Dan snapped.

He turned and bent to check Carver. He was quite dead; the bullet had caught him in the heart. A quick glance at Mike was all Dan needed to confirm that there was no hope for _him_ , Jesus _Christ_ , that was a mess. His head looked like a smashed melon, and Dan felt suddenly ill – it was nowhere near his first time seeing things of the sort, but the speed at which things had deteriorated had left him reeling.

_Oh God – Mike's_ dead.

He realised suddenly that he had no idea what the fuck he would do about this mess.

A movement caught his eye and he turned to see Huang starting to drag herself away, face white and jaw clenched in pain. He moved over her and grabbed her collar, holding her still.

“I said not to move!”

“You gonna kill me, do it now, asshole,” she snapped, teeth drawn back from her black teeth in a pained grimace. “This really fucking hurts.”

“I...” It had been one thing for Carver to go down in a firefight. It was another entirely to kill someone who was unarmed and injured at his feet. It didn't take much thought to realise that no matter how warped his moral compass had gotten over the last few days, he wasn't going to do it.

But then what?

Once it would've been simple – arrest her – but he couldn't do that now, could he? It'd raise too many questions.

Fuck – _fuck_.

“Where are you trying to go?” he asked.

Huang stared at him in disbelief.

“Um, the fucking _hospital_? You just shot me!”

“But...” _Then what? Go crawling back to the Corpirate?_

_The Corpirate_. It hit him then that this was perhaps his one opportunity to get information on the man, to be at least a little ahead of the game in this fucked up situation. Crouching over Huang, he jammed his gun against her head. She flinched, cringing away a little, one hand clapped over the bullet wound on her shoulder.

“How much do you know about your boss' plans?” Dan demanded.

“What do you want to know?” she replied immediately, jumping, as expected, at the first possible opportunity to save her own skin.

“Ramsey – what's he want with him?”

“You _do_ work for him,” she hissed – Dan didn't bother denying it. “Look... he didn't tell us much. We're pretty new to his crew. But word was he had some guy in the FBI helping him – was gonna use him to get access to information about that painting they stole.”

“Etching,” Dan corrected automatically, and she waved a hand dismissively, then grimaced as the motion pulled at her shoulder.

“Same fucking difference. Anyway, this FBI dude's gonna ask around, find out who they're planning to sell to, and then intercept and catch whoever Ramsey sends to make the transaction. He recently found out about their weird six-way thing – means that his number one priority is now hurting or killing Ramsey's boyfriends. Get to him that way.”

It didn't take Dan long to work it out, and his blood ran cold.

_FBI dude... find out who they're planning to sell the art to... intercept and catch them._

“This FBI agent – it's not Lynton Coal, is it?”

“Yeah, that's the one.”

_Oh, Jesus_. He'd known Coal had it out for Ramsey but he hadn't quite realised he was working for the fucking Corpirate. With that guy's resources at his back combined with all the access Coal had as a high level FBI agent...

Coal would be able to find out who Ramsey was selling the etching to no problem.

And if he caught whichever of the Fake AH Crew went to sell it -

There wouldn't be an arrest. Wouldn't be a trial. He'd hand them straight over to the Corpirate – or, Dan realised with horror, take his own revenge out on them with no care for the consequences. Whatever Coal's motivations they weren't based in the law, or justice, or any desire to put Ramsey behind bars.

But he knew the plan now. He could go back and warn them before they even left this city.

He straightened up and Huang squinted up at him, face scrunched with pain, growing steadily paler. If he left her here now she would die before she could get anywhere near a hospital.

“Where's your phone?” he demanded.

She stared at him before tugging it from her pocket and dropping it on the ground next to her, unable to lift her arm much. Dan bent and grabbed it. It only took him a minute to call an ambulance – Huang supplying the address of where they were – the second he was done he broke the phone, then took her fallen gun.

“Stay here,” he snapped, as he made to leave. “Someone's coming to help you.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Huang demanded, suspiciously. She was staring at him and Dan hesitated as he realised the strange line he was walking between listening to his morals and throwing them out the window. “You shoot my fucking partner then call an ambulance for me – you're not even arresting me. You a cop or what?”

Dan froze, the words striking something in him, making him suddenly unsure. He spared a glance for Carver, then Mike – felt another deep pang in his gut at how awfully things had turned out.

“I don't bloody know what I am,” he muttered.

Leaving Huang here alive might well come back to bite him in the ass later. She was anything but loyal, he'd seen that much. But he didn't think he could deal with any more blood on his hands today, and he turned and hurried back off toward the car, needing to get out of here before anyone showed up.

 

* * *

 

It took him too long to get back to the hotel. He got lost several times and at one point, Mike's phone – he'd left it on the seat beside him – began to ring. He ignored it, but realised then that he was in deep, deep shit.

Mike was _dead_.

The ambulance was going to find his body and people would start asking questions. Huang might say what happened – she didn't know his real name, but a British man working with the FBI? They'd find him out immediately.

Oh God, he was screwed. He couldn't keep up his cover any longer – he couldn't stay with the FBI or he'd be arrested in seconds. He had to get out. He had to get out and he had to get Ray and Gavin out and he'd probably have to go and stay with them and just fucking trust that Geoff would be soft enough on him to let him lie low with the crew for a while. That or they'd take him prisoner again. And this time he'd have nowhere to escape to.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

All he could hope was that Gavin would have a plan. He had much more experience with turning sides on the law – he'd be able to help Dan work out what to do, surely. Would vouch for him if it came to it, with Geoff and the others.

That was the only reassurance he had, the only thing keeping him calm as he drove back and headed up to his room.

He knew something was wrong the second he opened the door.

The flat was empty, but the bedroom door wide open, and he could already see that they weren't in there.

_Shit_.

His stomach dropped at the realisation, but for a moment he still couldn't quite believe it.

“Gav?” he called out quietly, walking into the room. Looked around like he really believed that for some reason they were hiding behind the couch, or in the kitchenette – but all was empty and silent. “Ray? Are you guys...?”

Nothing.

They'd skipped out on him.

“Oh, for God's _sake,”_ he groaned, hands going up to cover his face – well wasn't this just the shit icing on the crap cake of this fucking _awful day_.

He didn't even feel angry, really. Just faintly, vaguely sick with disbelief, fear, betrayal – of course, _of course_ they still didn't trust him, or course they'd run out – and here he'd thought things were fucking going well with Gavin for once.

Numbly he walked over to his phone, left on the table – opened it to check the messages.

_Sorry, had to go, we'll be in touch._

It was Gav – it had to be – and Dan's hand clenched around the phone.

_We'll be in touch_. Gavin had his number, then, but-

But-

But he and Ray had gone back to the others, and it hit Dan suddenly that that meant they'd leave the city – that they'd go to put their plan in action – that they'd walk right into Coal's trap without knowing about it and _fuck, fuck, I have to warn them, I have to-_

Gavin could contact him, but not the other way around – he didn't know if they even would, or soon enough for him to warn them.

He put the phone down and looked around the empty, quiet hotel room. The blood on the floor. An abandoned cup of tea on the counter. Closed his eyes and took a deep breath and tried to file away the gunshot still ringing in his ears, the memory of Mike crumpling to the ground ahead of him, the thought of Ray and Gavin holed up in here and then running the first chance they got.

_There is nothing for you here_.

He'd made his choice the second he saw Gavin kneeling in the rubble of that construction site. Everything he'd done the last few days had only solidified it. There was no going back. He couldn't work with the police here any more – he probably couldn't even go back to his job in England at this point. He'd gone too far and now his only choice was to keep on and go all the way.

_Find the Fake AH Crew. Help them. Take their side because they're the only bloody people in this city who can protect you now_.

He let out a breath and turned, shoving his phone in his pocket. Moved to grab his suitcase, his coat, the keys to the car, only one goal in mind.

Get back to Achievement City.

Get to the crew before they could walk into Coal's trap.

Get to Gavin.

 


	12. Chapter 12

“You shouldn't sleep in the car.”

Gavin hadn't even been aware that he'd dozed off, only that at some point his head had migrated to Michael's shoulder and now the other's arm was around him, hand carding soothingly through his hair. He stirred sleepily, turning to look at Michael in confusion, and the other man smiled a bit.

“You were having a bad dream,” he continued, and Gavin frowned.

“I don't remember.”

And he didn't – all he knew was a vague, unsettled feeling at the back of his mind. Like something very bad had happened but he couldn't quite remember what. He sat up now, looking out the window to see where they were.

They had touched down in Achievement City a while ago. The flight out from the other city had all gone smoothly – Funhaus had created enough of a distraction that they could slip out without the police stopping them, and now they drove from their landing spot back to the base. The whole process had been quick, efficient, and taken only a matter of hours. It was late afternoon by now, slipping into evening.

He wondered where Dan was.

“Hey.” Michael's hand was on his arm again – Geoff looking at both of them in the rear view mirror as he drove. “Broody. What's going on?”

“Nothing,” Gavin said, turning back to him. “Just tired.”

Michael didn't look convinced, and Gavin could hardly blame him. It wasn't exactly unusual for any of them to have nightmares, especially after heists went wrong or they had a couple of close calls. And there'd been more than enough of those recently for it to have gotten into Gavin's head.

That and, you know, smashing a guy's skull in after he tried to kill you and your boyfriend.

“Are you worried about Dan?” Michael continued then, and Gavin swallowed, glancing up to meet Geoff's eyes.

“Yeah. Whatever he was doing with Mike, surely it wouldn't have taken this long. We should call him – he'll be wondering where we are.”

“Later,” Geoff replied, and Gavin glanced at him.

“Why later?”

“You said this Mike guy had worked out he was hiding something. If he's told anyone they might be watching Dan, even tapping him – so we can't just call him out of the blue. Don't worry, Gav,” he added, “We're not just gonna leave him in the lurch. But we need to be strategic about this. We'll call him soon enough.”

Gavin hesitated, then nodded, relaxing back into the seat and leaning against Michael again. Hopefully Dan could take care of himself for now. He wasn't their first priority at the moment anyway.

 

* * *

 

It was strange returning to the base. It felt like they’d been away much longer than the few days they actually had. Lindsay met them as they entered.

“No one came to bust the door down while you were away,” she said, and Geoff grinned a bit.

“Yeah, turns out Dan just sold out our heist, not our base.”

“He also saved my damn life,” Gavin began, testily, only to yelp when Geoff turned to him and _tickled_ him, hand flying to his neck before poking at his stomach. He squirmed back, screeching as he tried to protect himself.

“I know, Grumpy, you've only told us a hundred times,” Geoff said, but there was no malice in it. “I'm just kidding around.”

Gavin scowled at him, but Geoff was already stepping forward, grabbing his wrists and holding them gently as he leaned in.

“You gotta trust me that I'll deal with it fine,” he said quietly. “I told you already. He made up for it when he helped you. You fucked up before but if you say he's on our side now - if _Ray_ agreeswith you,” he added, casting a glance at the other man, who was looking on from where he stood pressed against Jack's side - “Then I believe you. It's all cool. We'll get back in touch with him later. Okay?”

Gavin nodded, silently, feeling a twisting relief in his gut. After dealing with this in secret for so long – and then spending so long after that afraid that the others would still turn on Dan after what he'd done – it just felt... _odd_ , to let go, to let someone else take control. But he did trust Geoff, and so he forced himself to relax, and then even smile. Geoff smiled back, leaning in to kiss him.

“Good. Now how about we go see what they're all saying about us, huh?”

 

* * *

 

No less than three different news channels were running the story. _The hunt continues for the missing Rembrandt_. The crime and investigation channel had somehow already rustled up a documentary about them – someone had been busily digging into Achievement City's history, it seemed.

“Wow,” Michael said as they crowded together on the couch in the rec area, watching themselves pull a heist from a few years ago. “Do we really leave so much footage of ourselves around?”

“Gotta keep the people healthily terrified of us,” Geoff replied dismissively. “Besides, we make sure to burn any of the stuff with Ryan or Gav or Jack's faces in it.”

“They're gonna crack down on us,” Jack said quietly. “Maybe we underestimated how big this would get.”

“We can handle it,” Geoff replied. “People have tried to clean up AC before. It's a lost cause every time. Trust me, when this art pops up somewhere else they'll redirect their attention. Speaking of, we need to meet that buyer tomorrow.”

Gavin nodded where he was curled up on the couch between Ryan and Ray. They had arranged a series of buyers when they started planning the heist and he'd already contacted the guy at the top of the list to let him know it'd been a success – though he'd've seen it all over the news anyway.

The man was a renowned art dealer of high reputation in their circles. He was flying all the way in from Italy and wanted a very discreet meeting, which meant they couldn't all go. It had been painstakingly arranged and they couldn't be late or the guy would bolt on them – Gavin saw now why Geoff had had them leave the city so quickly. It'd've have been disappointing to have to move on to their second buyer; he was paying distinctly less.

“Tomorrow morning was the day we arranged,” he said. “Ryan and I will go as planned?”

“I don't know, Gav,” Geoff said with a bit of a frown. “Are you up to it?”

Gavin straightened up indignantly. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Ray won't be moving for a while,” Jack pointed out. “And you're not exactly in top shape either. Geoff can go.”

“You said I could do it.” This wasn't even about Dan, now, or anything else; making the trade was a big deal and Geoff had agreed to let him do it a long time ago. “I'm perfectly fine.”

“There is a hole in your shoulder,” Michael muttered.

Gavin cast him a glare. “You won't be getting anywhere near any hole of mine if you don't mind your own business,” he shot back, and Michael choked on his beer so hard that he broke into a coughing fit and Ray had to pound his back.

“Well, your sense of humour emerged unscathed at least,” he spluttered, once recovered.

“What if something goes wrong?” Geoff asked, uncharacteristically serious. Gavin looked over at him and found his eyes still on Ray – it hit him hardest, he knew, when heists didn't go according to plan; he was the one in charge and responsible for all of them.

“Ryan can take care of me,” Gavin said, and turned, poking at Ryan's chest. “Can't you, Rye-bread?”

“Sure can,” Ryan replied, although he'd been fairly quiet tonight as well. All three of the gents exchanged some sort of look that Gavin didn't quite catch, but whatever happened they seemed to come to some sort of agreement, because after a moment Geoff nodded, and Ryan leaned in, cupping the back of Gavin's neck and pulling his head towards him to press a kiss against his hair.

“Team Love and Stuff will get the money and stuff,” he declared, and Gavin laughed, wrapping an arm around his waist and cuddling in closer to his side as they all turned their attention back to the news and the stories about them playing out on the screen.

 

* * *

 

After the stress of all that had happened, it felt good to be back in the safety of the apartment that night. But it was impossible to completely shrug off work, not when Gavin's shoulder still hurt and he knew he had to get up early tomorrow and Dan was still a faint lurking worry at the back of his mind.

He sighed as he got out of the shower and stood in front of the mirror, carefully patting dry the area around his shoulder wound and frowning at the dark circles under his eyes, the still bruised skin and overall haggardness. He really did look like shit, and that was putting it kindly. The others weren't much better – neither was Dan. Everything that had happened had really taken a toll on them.

Still. Getting the art was meant to be an end, of sorts. Once the fuss died down the money they got from it would set them up well enough that they could stop and take a holiday. And if Gavin was right – and God, he hoped he was – Dan had come around enough by now that he wouldn't be against them any more. And once they sorted things out with him, once he decided what he wanted to do – it would all be uphill from there, surely.

What they did have to do was _talk_ about it, though, and Gavin bit his lip as he exited the bathroom and paused in the hallway. He could see one of the bedroom doors ajar up ahead – could faintly hear Ryan and Geoff's voices drifting out from inside, and felt suddenly oddly nervous.

No one had mentioned Dan all night and suddenly he felt awkward about bringing it up with Geoff again. He sort of felt like he was pestering him with it, like Geoff would get annoyed if he kept asking “but when, but when.” The answer always seeming to be _later_.

It was stupid, he knew – if Geoff knew it was upsetting him he'd do something about it immediately – but it was one of those weird little frustrations that Gavin always dealt with himself because he didn't like to feel like he was bothering the others.

With an annoyed little sigh, he trudged out to the main room where the light was still on.

Ray was lying back on the bean bag, Michael curled around him, idly massaging his shoulders. Both of them looked like they were half-dozing off, but they snapped to attention at the sound of someone coming in, and Gavin shot them a small smile.

“Lad-piling without me, boys?” he asked, wandering over.

“More like a lad-sprawl,” Ray said – rolling his eyes up to look at Gavin without moving his head. “I really regret lying down on this.”

“Why?”

“I'm pretty sure I won't be able to get back up again.”

“Do your ribs hurt?” Gavin asked, plopping down next to him in concern.

Ray shook his head, smiling. “Nah, I took some painkillers. Just stiff. It's fine. I'll just live here forever and you'll have to fetch me burgers. And my DS charger.”

“Would we bang on the bean bag,” Michael mused.

“No banging when broken bones,” Gavin and Ray immediately recited in unison, and Michael laughed.

“That is an idea though,” Ray mused, “I don't think the bean bag's been christened yet.”

“There's your motivation to get better Ray,” Michael said, and Ray shot him a sly grin.

“You're gonna be housebound for a while,” Gavin murmured, with a small frown. He had been trying not to think about what happened back at the shopping mall, but every time he looked at Ray's bruised and battered face it came back to him. His struggle with the Corpirate's man. The burning pain of the knife. The hands closing tight around his throat strangling the life out of him.

How Ray would have been next if Gavin hadn't done what he did.

A hand curled around his wrist, squeezing gently, and he snapped out of it to find the other two watching him in concern. Ray shifted his grip until their fingers were slotted together, shaking his hand a little.

“Hey,” he said. “I'm okay. We're both okay. We've had much worse than this before.”

“I know,” Gavin said, and gave a small smile. “Things go wrong on heists.”

“Shit happens,” Ray said, and Gavin nodded.

“Shit happens.”

Michael was oddly quiet and they both looked towards him. He was frowning slightly, fingers idly twisting at the fabric of Ray's shirt, and when he looked up at them his smile didn't reach his eyes.

“Things shouldn't have gone _that_ wrong,” he began, and Gavin's stomach dropped.

“Michael...” Surely he couldn't still blame Dan for all that had happened.

“Michael.” It was Ray who heaved himself up a bit so that he could hold Michael's hand properly – his other still caught in Gavin's. “C'mon, dude. If it wasn't Dan it might've been someone else. What's that thing Ryan always fucking says? Only law we haven't broken yet is Murphy's.”

“It's easy for you two to blow it off,” Michael muttered. “You were both in there. If something had happened I'm the one that would have lost you.”

“You would have if Dan hadn't helped us,” Gavin replied gently. “So it evens out. Okay?”

“I'm still pissed he hit Jack to be honest,” Michael said. The most fiercely loyal of them all, he was often the most blatantly protective too.

“I am too,” Gavin admitted, “But you know, we _were_ keeping him prisoner. And Ryan tased him. So like I said, it evens out.”

“I can even it out some more,” Ray added, and tugged Michael down to kiss him. Michael let out a startled noise, then kissed him back, holding himself above Ray to keep his weight from pressing down on his injuries. Gavin smiled as he watched them – letting himself fall back into that lull of comfortable, safe familiarity, the three of them here in their flat, his eyes fixed on the way Michael's lips worked softly against Ray's, the hand that came up to trail gently down the other's cheek.

When they pulled apart Michael turned immediately to Gavin, reaching out to him over Ray.

“You too,” he said gruffly. “Come make up for your friend's sins.”

“Gladly,” Gavin replied with a small laugh, and got up, crossing over to Michael's side. He knelt down, Michael grinning and shifting his legs open to pull Gavin in between them, arms winding tight around his neck as he reeled him in to kiss him hard. Gavin let his hands fall to Michael's waist, holding them steady – let the other man take the control he wanted, his own eyes slipping shut, stifling a little noise as Michael nipped at his lip when he moved too much.

They were rudely broken apart when Ray tried to sit up. The pressure of him pushing himself upright made the beans in the bag shift out from under them and caused Michael to sink backwards so suddenly that Gavin toppled forward as well, their teeth clashing together painfully.

“Ow,” Gavin said, even as Michael yelled “ _Fuck_.”

“Sorry,” Ray replied, unapologetically. “Hm. Maybe second guess the banging-on-the-bean-bag thing. Could be dangerous.”

“I still reckon it'd be interesting,” Michael replied, having recovered himself a little as Gavin clambered off him.

“Because _interesting_ is exactly the way we want to define our sex life,” Gavin muttered, rubbing his side a bit.

“Of course it is,” Michael said immediately. “Fucking vanilla bean.”

“I'm not a vanilla bean,” Gavin pouted, and got to his feet. “But I'm out. I'll leave you two to your bean bag shagging.”

Michael laughed, and Gavin couldn't help but chuckle too as he wandered out in search of Jack. Michael's bringing him up had him wanting to spend time with the other man. He was always so level headed that Gavin suddenly needed the reassurance of his company.

He found his boyfriend sitting in one of the other bedrooms, quietly working away at something on his phone. When he looked up and saw Gavin hovering he smiled, laying the phone aside and beckoning him closer.

“Hey. You feeling alright?”

Gavin nodded. It felt easy and comfortable to curl up against Jack's side, leaning up to kiss his cheek gently. The bruise where Dan hit him had all but faded by now and he was suddenly glad of it.

“You sure?” Jack asked then – he'd always been able to tell when one of them was preoccupied with something.

Gavin sighed a bit.

“I really want to deal with this Dan crap. But I don't want to pester Geoff about it. I don't know. I just want to be _certain_. And I still hate that we left him behind."

“Oh, Gav.” Jack turned him to face him, reaching up to clasp his shoulders gently. “Geoff talked to me about it. He's got it all sorted, alright? Lindsay's going to call Dan tomorrow – we've got Adam looking into the police over there now just to see if he's still with them and what he's up to. She's gonna call Dan in to meet and talk. Geoff didn't tell you because Adam doesn't have answers yet and he didn't want to worry you before you go in tomorrow. We do have it handled – you just need to _trust us_.”

“I do trust you,” Gavin murmured, feeling a weight lift off his chest at the realisation that everything was under control after all.

Jack raised his eyebrows.

“I _do_ ,” Gavin repeated, and Jack laughed.

“But you're edgy. It's fine, Gav. I know Dan coming back has been weird. But we'll deal with it the way we deal with everything.”

His words were reassuring but his hand trailed down over Gavin's shoulder – gentle as he brushed the edge of the bandages – and Gavin could tell then that he had been worried, so worried about all this too.

But right now, at least, everything was on track, and that was enough for him to lay his head on Jack's shoulder again and reach down to tangle their fingers together, and let his eyes slip shut for a while.

 

* * *

 

“I'm telling you,” Ryan said. “Flares are the next big thing.”

“Setting everyone on fire isn't exactly subtle,” Gavin pointed out, but laughed. “But yeah, I like it. Dramatic. And creative. It could become your signature thing, apart from the mask.”

“Exactly,” Ryan agreed.

They fell into silence. It was half past six in the morning and at this time of year still very dark. The streets were quiet, empty, a thin sheen of frost already fogging over the car windows. They'd been sitting here forty minutes already, waiting for their contact – the buyer was supposed to call them when he arrived.

“Have we been stood up?” Gavin asked finally, checking his phone for what felt like the fiftieth time. They'd arrived early but the guy was running pretty damn late by this point.

“Who knows,” Ryan replied, but he sounded edgy. “He doesn't seem like the sort though, not with what we're offering.”

Gavin drummed his fingers impatiently against the armrest before moving to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“Let's go for a walk then, see if he's waiting and just forgot to message us. Or maybe he's lost.”

Ryan nodded and they got out of the car and headed off, moving down the quiet avenue towards the courtyard between several empty lease office buildings where they were meant to be meeting once the buyer messaged them that he was there.

Gavin felt suddenly uneasy as they approached, the dark, cold quiet of the empty streets unsettling – and it only got worse when they stepped into the courtyard and froze at the sight of the three bodies sprawled on the floor.

“Jesus,” Ryan muttered, already stepping forward to check one. Gavin pulled out his gun and strode up to what he recognised as the buyer, lying face down in a pool of blood. He grimaced as he rolled him over slightly.

Clean shot to the head. It was hard for anything to stay warm in this weather but the blood was still sticky and wet. He couldn't have been killed that long ago.

Gavin's blood ran cold. He turned to find Ryan already beckoning him to go – whatever had happened here, the deal had obviously been compromised and-

Before they could take a single step Ryan suddenly stumbled forward, hand going to his shoulder.

“Ryan?” Gavin rushed to his side and froze as he noticed the dart buried in his arm. “Shit-”

“Get out of here,” Ryan snapped – his speech was already slurring, swaying and stumbling as his eyes clouded over. Despite that there was a fierce determination in the way he grabbed Gavin's arm and started to drag him back out onto the road.

Too late. Two men were already striding towards them through the courtyard entrance – Gavin turned to find more closing in from the sides, looked up to see several more in the windows of the buildings above. They were totally surrounded-

It was a trap.

Cold dread began brewing in his stomach – no one should have _known_ about this meeting – beside him Ryan was listing; Gavin had one arm around his waist but was struggling to keep him upright. After a second he was forced to lower him to the ground, standing over him as he raised his gun defensively.

He froze as a familiar figure stepped out amongst the men closing in from the front.

Agent Coal.

He was sneering, a horrid, sly grin spreading over his face, widening when he saw Ryan lying helpless at Gavin's feet, and Gavin's blood ran cold. Nothing but _confusion_ for a minute because if this was a police operation they should have _known_ about it, they had people who monitored that stuff – Dan's activity had been exceptions, they'd happened so suddenly, but this meeting had been planned for weeks and if the police had been coming to intercept they should have known – but these men weren't police, they wore no uniform. Whatever was going on here was something else entirely.

He barely had time to think about it – couldn't even fire off a shot before there was a sudden sting of pain in his neck. His hand went up and he felt another dart – it hit him hard and sudden, a wave of dizziness washing over him before the ground rushed up to meet him and everything went black.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Dan jerked awake with a jolt.

For a moment he couldn't remember where he was – was terribly confused about why he'd woken up in his _car_ – but then it returned to him. He'd spent hours driving back to Achievement City and it'd been dark by the time he'd arrived. He hadn't been in contact with the FBI or the police since he left and not knowing whether they were after him or not, he'd been too worried to go back to the place he'd been staying before. So he'd ended up parked in the street near a railway station in some random suburb, and drifted off there. Rubbing his eyes groggily, he checked the time – it was early, just past the winter dawn – and frowned as he tried to work out just what the hell he was going to do now.

Mike was dead.

He couldn't stop thinking about how terribly that whole business had gone down. It lurked at the back of his mind and kept popping into his head whenever he wasn't distracting himself with something else. Mike was dead, dead, dead, and Coal was bad – everyone was bad, it seemed, half the police were working for the fucking Corpirate or others in this city-

And he needed to warn Geoff and the others, but now, as he checked his phone, he saw that they still hadn't been in touch with him. No one else had, either – so maybe Huang had managed to keep her mouth shut after all.

Still. It left him stuck with no plan except to attempt to track his way back to Ramsey's base.

He cleaned himself up in the little train station toilet. Bought a cheap coffee. Smoked a cigarette. Ignored the odd dread that was starting to build in the pit of his stomach. Driving back here had been hell, stuck in the car with nothing to do but sit out on the road with his awful thoughts. The memory of Mike lying dead on the floor. Of the others heading obliviously into danger while he was helpless to warn them.

Oddly enough, it wasn't just Gavin his concern extended to. He hadn't talked to Ray much even while the other man was in the hotel with him, but suddenly he felt an odd need to keep him safe as well.

As it was, he knew Gavin wouldn't just let the crew abandon him. They'd be back in touch, he just had to wait. Still, for now, he got back in his car and began to drive.

By late morning he'd managed to track down the store he'd made the call to the police from after escaping, and he was aimlessly about to make a guess as to how he'd gotten there when his phone rang suddenly enough to make him jump. He snatched it up, checking it – it was still quite early in the day – and frowned. Unknown number.

“Hello?” he asked as he picked up, bracing himself for what he hoped would be Gavin's voice.

“Dan Gruchy?” It was a woman's voice, unfamiliar.

“Yes... who is this?”

“My name is Lindsay. I work for Geoff Ramsey.”

Dancould have sobbed in relief at the words.

“Needless to say he wants to speak to you,” Lindsay continued. “Have you-”

“Oh thank God,” Dan cut in. “Listen, when are you selling that art?”

“What?”

“It's a trap,” he said, nearly tripping over the words in his haste to get them out. “It's a bloody trap, Agent Coal knows about the art and he's gone to find out who you're selling it to – he's planning to catch whoever you send. He's a cop, he'll be able to get access to all those gallery people, but when he goes it won't be to make an arrest.”

“What?” Lindsay demanded again. Then, “Fuck, fuck-”

“They've already gone?"

“We thought it was fine.” He could already hear her rattling about, moving to contact the others, he hoped. “We have people in the police but we didn't hear anything about him running that operation-”

“Because he's not doing it for the FBI,” Dan said grimly. “He's working for the Corpirate.”

“ _Shit,”_ Lindsay said. “Gav and Ryan left hours ago. They haven't called back in yet-”

“Damn it!” Too late. He was too bloody late. “You have to check up on them – you have to-”

“Doing it now,” she snapped. And then promptly hung up on him.

Dan stared at the phone in his hand. His heart was pounding and he couldn't quite believe it. _Fuck it – not again, not again, don't leave me fucking hanging_ again-

And beneath all that, a deeper fear – that Coal already had Gavin, Ryan too, that he'd already hurt them or worse-

For an awful fifteen minutes he was left sitting, helpless to do anything but _wait_ and hope that they would call him back. And they did; the second his phone rang again he snatched it up.

“Hello?”

“You were right,” Lindsay's voice returned, tight and tense now. “They're not picking up any of our calls. We sent Michael down to check but-”

“It's too late.” Dan's heart sank. “Coal's got them.”

There was a moment of horribly glum silence.

“You should come in,” Lindsay said then. “We have... protocol, sort of, for when this sort of thing happens. But Geoff will probably still want to speak to you.”

“Damn right I'm coming in,” Dan snapped. He told Lindsay his location and sat back to wait, fuming – letting his anger rise up to cover his fear. He had a good few words to say to Ramsey himself.

 

* * *

 

Returning to the base by the light of day was peculiar; it did look just like a normal office building, if rather secluded and with a very high wall around the car park. Dan had been picked up by one of Geoff's random security recruits, who drove him here in a terse silence, and now as he walked in after her he felt oddly awkward – not a prisoner but not exactly a comfortable guest either – but stood his ground. He had one goal right now, _get Gav back_ , and damned if he was going to let anything stop him.

He was led into a meeting room on the ground floor – the building was surprisingly empty and quiet, at least on this level – and it was only moments later that Geoff charged into the room. Ray followed after him, a bit slower, still pale and limping.

Dan looked up from where he sat and met the crew boss' eyes squarely.

Geoff was terrified.

He could see it, despite the other's outwardly calm demeanour; there was something wild and frantic in his eyes, something tense and tightly controlled in his movements as he yanked a chair out, pulled one for Ray and then sat down.

“What do you know?” he demanded.

“Coal told me he was coming back to AC to talk to the art experts,” Dan supplied immediately. “I thought he was just gonna question them. But then I found out that he works for the Corpirate – that he was planning to work out who you were selling the art to, then meet whoever came there and catch them. He wants to get at you through the others. Since you're together and all.”

“The Corpirate's the one fucking person in this city we thought didn't know about us,” Geoff muttered, and Dan winced a little as he remembered that he had unknowingly given Agent Coal that particular piece of information. _Shit_. He felt a sting of guilt but shoved it away; there was nothing they could do about that now.

“Yeah, well,” he said. “If it had just been a police op your people would've known about it. But he's not doing this on FBI terms. He won't have made an arrest.”

“Damn right he won't,” Geoff said, and leaned back in his chair, hands running worriedly over his face. Ray, sitting next to him, reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Police or not, Coal hates us. We've made fools of him for a long time. And Ryan shot him. He never forgave or forgot that. And now he has him,” he added, and something angry and hysterical rose up in his tone, “ _Damn it_!”

“Geoff,” Ray said softly. Dan's eyes darted over to the other man. He looked scared too but was covering it better. “We'll find them.”

“What's the plan?” Dan asked then, impatiently.

Geoff glanced over at him. “For you? Fucking nothing; sit here and stay out of our way while I get my boyfriends back. You've done more than enough already.”

“Geoff,” Ray chided, but Dan could well defend himself; he stood up, scowling.

“Bloody hell, what do you think I've been doing the last few days? Nothing but try to protect _you_ , and Gav, and that stupid damn art. Maybe if you hadn't skipped out on me I would have been able to fucking warn you before you went off to sell it! But no, you left me in the lurch _again_ and now look what's happened!”

Geoff stood up as well, moustache practically bristling in anger. “Are you _blaming_ me?”

“Yes, I'm bloody well blaming you!”

“Of course we weren't gonna trust you after you betrayed us and sold us out-”

“I was never working for you,” Dan said angrily, “I didn't _betray_ you-”

“You sure as hell betrayed Gav-”

“ _Enough_ ,” Ray cut in. He stood up too fast and winced, swaying; Geoff's face flashed with alarm as he reached out to steady him – Dan, on the other side of the table, involuntarily reached out as well. Ray took a moment to breathe, gathering himself, before straightening up, eyes bright with determination.

“Enough,” he repeated. “Stop fucking fighting. That's all in the past. Geoff, you told Gavin you were cool with Dan after he saved our lives. Way I see it he came over here to warn us after, yeah, us fucking up and not leaving him with a way to contact us. Dan, get your head out of your ass. We all want the same thing here. The others _safe_.”

A heavy silence fell in the room, both of them breathing hard, still glaring at each other.

Ray squeezed Geoff's arm, reaching up to cup his cheek and turn his face towards him.

“We talked about this,” he said quietly. “I know you're scared, come on, I am too. But Dan is _not_ our enemy here. You know that.”

Geoff turned towards Ray and Dan couldn't see his face, whatever silent exchange passed between them. He himself stood frozen, suddenly paralysed by the sheer amount of vulnerability Geoff was showing in front of him. But after a moment the other man nodded, taking a deep breath – Ray's hands dropping to his shoulders, squeezing reassuringly.

Geoff turned back to Dan, who stared back at him in silence. In all honesty he hadn't expected Geoff and the others to _welcome_ him, but he was a bit surprised by the fact that apparently they'd already talked things through and Geoff had agreed to give him a chance, even if he'd forgotten that a little now in all the panic of Ryan and Gavin going missing.

“Stay here,” Geoff said then. “I have some things to sort out, things you can't help with. But I'll let you know if I need you for something.”

Dan nodded, slowly sitting down again. Geoff glanced at Ray and pressed his arm before slipping out of the room. Ray stayed behind, sinking back into his seat with a little huff of relief at being able to sit down again and rest his injuries.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

“He's just worried,” Ray said finally, glancing up at Dan almost sheepishly. “Don't worry though. Gavin pretty much drilled it into all our heads that he wasn't gonna let you be a prisoner here.”

Dan nodded silently. He fidgeted where he sat, hating that he was being forced to just sit about while Geoff dealt with whatever it was he was doing.

“Isn't there _something_ I can do to help,” he asked, and Ray shook his head.

“You don't know the city well enough to help us search. We have a... protocol, sort of. For when this sort of shit happens.”

There was a quiet helplessness in his own voice that gave Dan pause.

“This has happened before?”

“Course it has,” Ray replied. “Shit goes wrong. People get caught. We've always gotten out of it before.” He barked out a humourless laugh. “Then again, Agent Coal is... he really is something else. I guess we always knew he never just wanted to catch us for the justice of it. That would be one thing. But nah. He's just... cruel. And really, really hates Ryan,” he added, and his composure broke a little for a moment. Dan could see just how terrified he was under it all.

He himself was fucking scared for Gavin. He couldn't imagine having that doubled – or happening _multiple times_ , Jesus Christ. He remembered what Gavin had said, about how in this world of shit his relationship with the others was the only good thing he believed in. Even now he could see how much that meant, how much it _mattered_ to have someone who loved you – who looked out for you – who'd do whatever it took to keep you safe when everyone else was out to stab you in the back.

Still.

“It was you who left the hotel with Gavin,” Dan said. Not accusing but tired now, hating feeling like he'd failed by getting here too late. “If you'd stayed I could have warned you.”

“Well I fucking regret it now, don't I,” Ray sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. “Look, Dan, I know you're on our side. I respect that. Hell, I _trust_ that. But right then I had to get out of there with Gav. It wasn't safe – your FBI friend was onto us. We couldn't stay.”

“Mike isn't my friend,” Dan began, then corrected himself, “Wasn't.”

Ray raised his eyebrows. “What happened?”

Honestly, Dan didn't want to think about it. But it was too late; the memory was already rising up behind his eyes. Mike's body on the ground. The splattered remains of his skull. He swallowed, hard, feeling a little ill. Sometimes it was easy to compartmentalise, to shove away all the things he didn't like to think about and focus on where he was here and now. Other times it grew overwhelming. He had more than enough to have nightmares about already.

“He wanted me to help with some smuggling shit,” he explained then. “Two guys working for the Corpirate. I'd run into them before, they used to work with you – Huang and Carver.”

“Those assholes?” Ray asked, and pulled a face. “Yeah, Geoff laid them off pretty fast.”

“I can see why,” Dan said drily. “They recognised me from a previous encounter. Got paranoid. Mike spooked them and Carver killed him. So I killed Carver. Huang told me about the Corpirate's plan. The police will have worked out what happened by now, Huang probably told on me. So I'm pretty sure they must be looking for me, they know I was involved.”

“You didn't kill her?"

Dan shook his head.

“Dude. Always tie up the loose ends,” Ray began, and Dan scowled at him.

“Yeah, maybe it's that bloody easy for you criminals. People aren't loose ends.”

“Sometimes they are,” Ray replied tersely, but looked chastised, and didn't argue further.

Dan sighed, reaching up to rub at his eyes.

“Anyway. Mike won't be causing us any more trouble. Since, you know, he's currently missing a head.” He gave an almost hysterical sort of laugh and then jumped a bit when Ray was suddenly leaning across the table, hand going out to touch his arm.

“Hey,” the other man said, a bit awkwardly. “Sorry. I forget you're not like us.”

“Steadily getting there,” Dan muttered.

“Are you okay?”

Dan looked up at him warily. _What do you care_ , he couldn't help but think, but didn't quite say it. After all, he and Ray hadn't gotten on very well at their last meeting, and he hadn't gotten the impression that Ray liked him all that much. Yet here he was looking at him with something like genuine concern and Dan was alarmed at the part of him that almost ached to accept it, to drink in any sort of friendliness after being alone for so long.

Ray noticed his hesitation and gave a small, awkward sort of grin.

“Look, I was a bit of an ass before. But you did save my life, and I can tell you love Gav. I know if he was here he'd want us to be nice to you. And I... I don't know much about you, but. The shit that happens here, it can be... harrowing,” he settled on. “I've killed my share of people. You get used to it. Sometimes, though, you see things. They can stick in your head and if you don't have anyone to help you deal with it...”

“I'm fine,” Dan said, and maybe it was only being able to tell someone that which made it true.

Ray nodded. “Good. Help me up then, let's go see what Geoff is up to.”

 

* * *

 

Most of the base was quiet – they'd cleared it out, Ray told him, fearful he'd give away its location after fleeing. Dan felt another vague guilt, but pushed it away. Geoff they found in a room full of computers. Here it was crowded, a bunch of other people working busily away, Geoff himself running around and barking orders.

“How's it going?” Ray asked.

Geoff turned to them. He didn't look annoyed to see them out of the room he'd left them in, barely sparing Dan a glance before shaking his head.

“Nothing yet. We're running the usual procedures. Checking police first just in case Coal did check in with them. Then security and street cameras, see if we can get a read on where they went after the meeting place. Jack's on his way back, Michael's still out looking.”

“Is your plan to literally just wait and see if they, what, pop up?” Dan demanded.

“You got a better way to find them?” Geoff snapped back, but there was no malice in it, just stress.

Dan didn't have an answer, and Geoff turned away. He felt useless as for now all he could do was sit back and watch, fidgeting constantly, that ever present tight fear coiling in the pit of his stomach. He felt awful but somehow, somehow it was better being here with the others – knowing that they were just as frantic as he was, that they were doing something to help. That it wasn't just him left looking for Gavin.

For now Geoff had regained some control, Ray too, and the only distress he could see was in the tightness of their shoulders, the careful blankness of their faces.

But the hours wore on to no avail, and by the time Jack slipped through the door their composure was cracking slightly.

“I have nothing,” he said, as he entered the room – his eyes slid over to Dan, widening as he noticed him, and they both froze very awkwardly for a moment – but he quickly stepped up towards Geoff, reaching out to touch his arm. For a moment they exchanged troubled looks, masks slipping – Jack reached up and put a hand on Geoff's shoulder, squeezing gently, and Dan could see it, that they were starting to get really bloody worried.

“We don't either,” Geoff replied, voice tight. “He's covering his tracks real fucking well.”

“We know where the Corpirate lives,” Ray piped up from where he was sitting in a chair. He should really be in bed, Dan thought, he was looking closer and closer to passing out, but he didn't think he himself would be able to stand lying around if his boyfriends were in danger either. “Big fancy mansion. Think Coal's taken him there?”

“It's a possibility, although he should know not to shit where he eats. But if we can't find Coal we might have to go knocking.”

Dan shook his head. “I feel like Coal won't take them back to the Corpirate before he gets the chance to take his own revenge on them. He'll have them stashed somewhere. I don't know. You know the guy better than I do.”

A glum silence overtook them all. Even the mercenaries and recruits in the room, working away at the computers, looked despondent – some of them casting Geoff wary glances. Dan could tell he was trying to keep control in front of them; he turned away, taking a moment to compose himself, before letting out a heavy sigh.

“Keep working,” he said. “I'm gonna call Michael.”

He strode out of the room, and after a second Jack and Ray glanced at each other and then followed him, Jack coming up next to Ray and putting an arm around his waist to support him.

Dan's own frustration was rising up at just how pointless this all was – they just weren't _getting anywhere –_ and he fought the urge to let it out, to snap at the others or hit the wall next to him. He took a few deep breaths, clenching his fists, and looked around the room again. It felt awkward being in here on his own and he decided to go outside. Have a smoke, calm down, look at the situation again and see if he could come up with something on his own.

He exited the room and paused, suddenly unsure how to get to the door of the base, before setting off down the corridor only to pause when he heard Jack's voice.

“He'll use them to reel you in.”

“At least then we'll know where they _are_ ,” Geoff began.

“No, shut up, we'll find them before that,” Ray piped up.

Dan bit his lip. He took a few hesitant steps forward and peered around the side of the hall. The three of them were hanging out in the corridor, Ray steadying himself against the wall, the other two with heads down and arms folded. Even as he watched a despondent silence overtook them before Geoff let out a miserable sigh.

“That guy back at the mall was ready to kill Gavin and Ray without a second thought. If all he wants is to hurt me he doesn't need to keep them alive.”

“Hey,” Jack said quietly. “We're gonna get them back. You know that.”

“It's Coal,” Geoff muttered. “You know what he's like. He's gonna hurt them. Probably has already. This isn't just about getting the rest of us. He fucking _loathes_ Ryan – regardless of what the Corpirate wants Coal isn't just gonna use them as bait.”

“Ryan's strong,” Jack replied. “So's Gav. They know we're coming. And if Coal... if he does hurt them at least that means he'll keep them alive.”

“Oh, wonderful. That's a great comfort, Jack,” Geoff muttered, but Ray reached out and pressed his arm.

“Geoff. Come on.”

Geoff's shoulders slumped and Jack reached forward, putting one arm around his shoulders, the other going to pull Ray in too. They huddled in together, falling into silence now, heads pressed together where they met in the middle, and Dan felt awkward suddenly, like he was witnessing something too intimate, something he had no place seeing.

He turned away, heading off in the other direction, heart pounding suddenly. He felt an odd almost-ache deep in his gut, a heavy sort of _loneliness_ , even as he got outside and leaned against the wall to light up. It was raining again, a miserable grey afternoon, and he rubbed his arms, feeling suddenly touch-starved.

It would be so easy to blame the others for all this. For running away before he had the chance to warn them. For pulling the heist. To act like they'd been the ones who corrupted Gavin in the first place, who turned him into what he was now.

But seeing them now – it was obvious how fucking scared they were, for Gavin and for Ryan too. How much they cared about each other.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to let the drumming sound of the rain on the concrete around him wash the creeping dread from his mind.

_We'll find Gavin. We have to._ And what he didn't want to think about; what would happen if again they were too late, if they didn't find him-

If he lost him again-

How this time he'd have _nothing_ left, not a hope to cling on to.

And suddenly, now, he longed for something, anything like what the others had, because right now their failure was bearing down on him, a heavy weight on his shoulders. Wherever Gavin was now, it wasn't _good,_ and Dan felt it creep in on him, that fear for him – for Ryan too – maybe what he needed was someone to hold him too, to tell him they'd be okay, that they'd find them-

But for now all he had was the cold winter air, and the rain coming down in droves around him, and the dull bitter taste of cigarettes on the back of his tongue.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Gavin came to feeling dizzy and disoriented. He couldn't see – tried to sit up and was pulled up short as he became aware that his hands were tied in front of him – he was lying on something but couldn't work out what, and the moment he started to struggle and stir a hand descended on his shoulder and roughly shoved him back down again.

He realised, after a confused second of trying to clear his head, that he was in a moving vehicle. But his mind was still sluggish, the drugs a heavy haze hanging over him, and before long everything was swimming away again.

He couldn't tell how long they drove for. He passed out and woke up again several more times and felt like they had been travelling forever. Being unable to see didn't help at all.

The final time he woke up feeling dehydrated, his mouth dry as sand and a pounding headache behind his eyes. This time he managed to stay awake, though he lay still, fearful of the men he could sense around him – heavy breaths, the occasional murmur of chatter he couldn't make out over the sack that he realised was tied about his head – they drove for a long while after that before he felt the vehicle pull to a halt, and there was a lengthy silence.

Finally he heard the car – van? – door open, and rough hands seized him and hauled him upright.

“Come on,” a voice grunted. He was thrust out of the vehicle and fell onto hard ground, letting out a grunt as the breath was knocked out of him. He could feel gravel digging into him, feel the chill of the winter air – and rain, too, spitting lightly onto him.

His arms were grabbed again and he was pulled to his feet. His legs buckled under him, numb from the way he'd been lying in the van for so long, but he felt two large figures come up and flank him on either side, easily carrying his weight between them as they half-dragged, half-carried him forward. Blind as he was he had no idea where they were going, just tripped and stumbled along.

Now that the confusion was fading away, fear came swimming back in as he remembered exactly what had happened.

_Our buyer's dead-_

_Agent Coal-_

_Ryan._

The deal had been compromised; somehow Coal had found them, had caught them. He felt a sick dread begin to churn in his stomach, forced himself to still and slow his breathing. He was taken indoors – felt the ground under his feet change to what felt like tiles, and then concrete. The next thing he knew he was being thrown to the ground and his arms were pulled up over his head. His wrists, still tied together, were bound to what felt like a metal railing above him, and then the sack was whipped off his head.

He heaved deep breaths, relieved after the hot, stifling claustrophobia of the bag, and squinted. The men who'd dragged him in here were the same ones who'd been at the meeting place; mercenaries dressed in dark leather. Not police. One of them turned towards him, scowling, and reached forward to yank the ropes around his wrists even tighter.

“Where's Ryan,” Gavin asked – or tried to, his voice came out a hoarse rasp with how dry his throat and mouth were.

The second he made a sound the mercenary's frown deepened and he punched him hard across the jaw. Gavin grunted, his head snapping sideways hard enough to make his neck ache. He felt his lip split against his teeth again, groaning as blood filled his mouth and dripped down his chin.

“Shut up,” the mercenary snapped, and stepped back, leaving along with the other man.

Gavin turned his face to try and wipe his mouth against his arm, breathing heavily. He shifted onto his knees to try and get more comfortable – tugged at the ropes and winced when they cut deeper into his skin.

_Okay. Okay_.

He couldn't tell where he was. The room seemed large, and very cold, but there were no lights on – two narrow windows high on the walls were the only source of illumination, but even then it seemed to be quite late outside, little light filtering through. Evening perhaps, that or the weather was so bad there was no sun at all.

A door opened and the sound was sudden enough to make him jump. He saw movement on the other side of the room, but it was still too dark for him to quite realise what was going on until men came right over to him and threw someone down next to him. He twisted his neck, trying to see, and his heart skipped as he realised it was Ryan – they bound him the same way, pulling his arms up and tying his wrists to a bar above them. Ryan was quite limp, his head lolling back as he let them manhandle him, and an awful terror overtook Gavin. When the men pulled the sack off his head his unease only grew as he realised they had taken the other man's mask off.

The men left again, quickly, the door slamming shut behind them, and Gavin leaned forward.

“Ryan – Ryan!”

Ryan let out a low groan, his head slowly tilting towards Gavin. Even in the dim light Gavin could see he was bruised, one eye dark and swollen, dried blood caked under his nose and lips.

“Jesus, Ryan – are you okay?"

“Peachy,” Ryan croaked out. His eyes finally cracked open, struggling to focus for a moment before they met Gavin's, and Gavin could have collapsed in relief when he forced a small smile.

Gavin tried to smile back, but it was a weak attempt.

“We're in deep turd Ryan.”

“Sure are.” He tried to sit up a bit and groaned again – Gavin tried to move forward but was pulled up short by the ropes.

“Don't move. How bad are you hurt?”

“I've had worse,” Ryan replied, but he leaned back against the wall then, taking a few deep breaths. Gavin watched him in growing concern. “Are _you_ alright, Gav?”

“Fine,” Gavin said. “Did you see who took us? It was Agent Coal.”

Ryan stiffened – evidently he'd passed out too quickly to notice. “Shit.”

“These aren't cops though,” Gavin continued, and bit his lip, looking around. “I don't know where we are.”

“The others will know we're gone by now.” Ryan pulled at his own ropes and grimaced as he seemed to realise they weren't budging. “They'll be coming. Did they take your weapons?”

Gavin shifted on the ground but could already feel that even his backup knives were gone. While he was unconscious it seemed they'd searched him pretty thoroughly.

“I have nothing.”

“We'll work something out.” They were sitting close enough that when Ryan rocked his leg out his knee bumped against Gavin's, a reassuring point of contact in the cold and darkness.

Before Gavin could reply, though, the lights turned on – flickering horribly beforehand, like something from a horror film that made his stomach lurch and his heart pound – and both he and Ryan winced, squinting as their eyes adjusted to sudden harsh fluorescent light above them. He realised they were in an expansive hall, clinically empty, slightly rundown with paint peeling off the walls. This side of the room was lined with rails but the other – still shadowy out of range of the light – was covered with what Gavin realised with confusion were _cages_ , built into the wall itself.

He barely had time to take it in before the door was creaking open and Agent Coal was stepping through. What unsettled Gavin most was the look of _glee_ on his face. Every time he'd seen the man in photographs or on television he'd seemed incapable of mustering a smile or even looking neutral, his face seeming pinched into a look of permanent distaste. But now he was grinning, an unholy delight in his eyes as he strode towards them, gaze fixed intently on Ryan, boots ringing loudly on the concrete floor.

He stopped in front of them, so close that they had to strain their necks back to look up at them, and then gave a horrible laugh.

“So. Face to face at last, Vagabond.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

Dan was beginning to grow panicked.

He had stood outside for a long time, freezing his balls off, until it simply got too cold and he was forced to return back inside the base. It felt awkward in there – too quiet with most of the people gone, but the computer room was filled with a tension so thick it felt like Dan could cut it with a knife. Ray had retired somewhere, Jack going with him, and Dan didn't want to be alone in the room with Geoff, so he took to standing just inside the base doors, staring forlornly out the window like a dog waiting for its master to come home. He didn't know what he was waiting for.

Michael returned later that night, furious and frustrated that he had made no progress searching the city. When he stormed through the doors and saw Dan waiting there he froze, staring at him, and there was a terribly awkward silence.

Dan realised abruptly that he hadn't seen Michael since he was still a prisoner in here. He also realised that he knew very little about the other man; he hadn't spent much time with him and all he knew were the rumours and what Gavin had told him in some of his stories. A slow scowl was spreading across Michael's face now though, and he glared at Dan and gave him a dismissive sort of grunt before marching off towards the room Geoff and the others were working in. Moments later Dan heard indistinguishable yelling.

He frowned. Ray's companionship had helped, probably too much; he hadn't realised how much he needed to see another friendly face right now. And Geoff's testiness he was pretty sure came from being stressed. But he had no idea where he sat with _Michael_ , and that impression had not been great.

He didn't think he could deal with that drama on top of everything else that was going on right now.

He sighed, turning to look out the window again, when he heard someone approaching and looked over to see Jack heading towards him. He stiffened a bit, expecting anger – he had punched the other man out the last time they met, after all – but Jack just looked exhausted as he came up and pulled a chair up near Dan to sit next to him.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Dan replied. And then, with some faint glimmer of hope, “Anything?”

Jack just shook his head and Dan deflated. He felt it again, that sting of fear, of a piercing anger that came from sitting here feeling so bloody _useless_.

“Damn it,” he ground out, fists clenching, only to jump when Jack's hand came out suddenly and pressed his arm.

“You need to calm down too. Losing our cool is the fastest way to start making mistakes.”

Dan opened his mouth to argue but closed it again when he saw how tired and worried Jack looked. He sighed, deflating, realising the truth in the words, and slumped over, rubbing his hands over his face.

“It is my fault,” he admitted. He wasn't sure why it came easily to tell Jack, of all people. “I thought I was doing what was right but if I hadn't told Coal about this heist he wouldn't have known how to catch Gav. Ryan too. If he dies because of me...”

“We _all_ fucked up,” Jack muttered, and Dan glanced up at him.

“Would've thought you of all people would blame me.”

“Because you hit me?” Jack asked, and rubbed the fading mark on his jaw ruefully. “Don't get me wrong, I was livid at the time. But, you know, the job we're in? Shit happens. You get hit a lot. And you could have shot to kill. You didn't. That means more than the fact that you punched me.”

“And me selling out your heist?”

“You owed the crew no loyalty. What happened is between you and Gavin. And whatever happened, you're here now, aren't you? Helping us?”

Dan nodded, looking away. He could already feel the tension bleeding from his shoulders a little at the sheer relief of talking to someone else, of having that reassurance.

“Thank you for choosing us,” Jack said then. “It can't have been easy.”

“I did it for Gav,” Dan said automatically.

Jack didn't answer and Dan stopped, thinking for a long moment, trying to sort through the tangle of betrayals and confusions and self-revelations that had taken place the last few days.

“It's not right,” he said finally. “Saving Gavin and all – doing it for him doesn't make it right. But Coal's not right either.” Learning the truth about the other man had been unsettling him, a cold unpleasant block in his stomach. “I knew he was up to something but... but finding out that he's bad too, that the guy chasing you down isn't doing it for justice but because he's working for some other crime lord – you're right. There really is nothing. No one here is good.”

“Not no one,” Jack murmured, and Dan glanced up at him and scoffed.

“Don't start. I can't get on my high horse now when I've thrown everything away.”

“For someone you love,” Jack pointed out. “Dan... we pull a lot of heists. We steal. But you know it's not about the money. What's that etching worth? Nothing in the scheme of things. Not Gavin's life, or Ray's. I can see you're worried about what doing all this makes you. But Ray told me about how you didn't kill that smuggler. How you let her go. You know... a lot of the time we say that those sort of morals make us weak. But you're not weak, Dan.”

Dan closed his eyes. _Sure bloody feels like it,_ he thought – still felt like he'd failed himself somehow, and Gavin, and everything they used to be – but Jack reached out and touched his arm again.

“You're _not_. It took me a while to see it – and yeah, okay, maybe the punching me didn't exactly help – but Gavin told me how you saved them. Ray did too. And I can see from how you're acting now that above all you just want to help him. I can see how much Gavin loves you too. So that's why I trust you with him, I think.”

It took Dan a second, but he abruptly recalled what Huang and Carver had told him back when he first encountered them. How fiercely protective the others all were over their frontman. He supposed you'd have to be, in this world where things could be so easily taken from you, and it hit him just how much what Jack was saying meant.

Jack saw him realise and laughed briefly, patting Dan's knee again before leaning back.

“It was hard for me too at first,” he said softly. “I used to be very good as well.”

Dan glanced up at him to find him smiling. It was just another reminder that it wasn't just he and Gavin who'd started out on the right side of things. Everyone had a turning point. And he was pretty sure he'd had his as well now.

“Anyway,” Jack declared then. “You should go and clean up. There's a bathroom and rec area just up the stairs – you can wash up a bit, maybe grab some sleep. When we go in to rescue them you won't want to be tired.”

Dan nodded and stood up. He felt exhausted suddenly – he'd been running on adrenaline the last few hours but it wasn't just that; he felt wrung out, like he'd absorbed too much new information, had too much to think about for too long. But Jack was right, he needed to rest or he'd be burnt out. _When we rescue them. When. We're coming._

He trudged up the stairs and headed for the bathroom only to pause when he heard raised voices coming from behind one of the other doors.

He remembered Gavin mentioning that people often stayed at the base late or overnight, and it seemed this was where the living facilities were. He recognised Michael's loud voice from one of the bedrooms instantly, and froze outside, only lingering because he heard his name mentioned.

“Dan came to warn us,” Geoff was saying.

“He fucking _sold us out_. He's the reason we're _in_ this mess!”

Dan stiffened at the sheer angerin Michael's tone. He heard Geoff make a vague noise of disagreement.

“Gavin's been over this a hundred times already,” the other man began, but Michael cut in.

“Gavin is _gone_ , Geoff! Fucking Agent Coal has him!” There was something desperate and hysterical and _terrified_ in Michael's voice, Dan realised with a sinking feeling; it cracked a little as he shouted. “He has Gav, and he has Ryan, and he is _going to hurt them_ and we can't – we can't fucking _find_ them. Don't you remember what he did to me?”

“Of course I do.” Geoff's voice was quiet. Soothing, or attempting to be – but something drawn and tight in it as well, and Dan felt a terrible pang. “But hating on Dan won't get us anywhere. He's the one who came to warn us.”

“I don't hate him,” Michael said then. “I'm just fucking pissed off. This would never have gone so wrong if all this Dan business hadn't _happened_ , you know? It's just. I don't know. I don’t fucking know.”

“Michael,” Geoff began, and Dan heard a great thump, as one of them – presumably Michael – hit the wall.

“He has them, Geoff.”

Michael's voice was quiet, almost broken, and Dan felt horribly upset then. Guilty under it all, but also frustrated at being blamed. It was bad enough, after all, to be blaming himself without the others joining in.

It had sounded like the two of them wanted some alone time, but he was surprised when a moment later the door banged open, suddenly enough to make him jump. Michael marched out and froze when he caught sight of Dan lurking around.

“What are you doing fucking sneaking around?” he demanded. “Were you eavesdropping on us?”

His eyes were red and he reached up to swipe at them angrily as he glared at Dan, obviously furious and embarrassed at being caught in this moment of vulnerability. Dan froze awkwardly, unsure what to say.

“No,” he began, but Michael just shook his head.

“Whatever,” he snapped, and marched down the hall towards a door leading out to a large balcony area. His shoulders were very stiff, tension wound up in his every movement. Dan watched him leave and then on a sudden impulse, strode after him.

Maybe it was a damn bad time, but he'd seen how close the younger three in the crew were, and with Ray and Gavin already on his side he suddenly felt like he needed to talk to Michael too-

But it was a bad time indeed, he realised, as he stepped out after Michael into the freezing cold. The rain had let up but the temperature had dropped as the sun went down. Michael was standing gripping the balcony rail so tightly his knuckles were white, his breath coming in harsh pants and misting white before him in the darkness.

Dan stepped out the door and paused behind him, catching his breath at the sudden cold.

“I get that you don't like me,” he said, “But we need to get Gavin back.”

“Fuck off, Dan,” Michael spat without bothering to turn around.

“I didn't realise how bad Coal was until it was too late-”

“Just _fuck off_ , okay?” Michael spun around, fists clenched. His face was so white that Dan fell silent, concerned, though colour burned high in his cheeks from his anger and the cold. “Do you even know how bad this is? This is the guy who's been after us for months – _years_ – and now he has them. Now he has them _both_. I haven't just lost a friend; _two_ of the people I love most in the entire fucking world are in the clutches of a maniac who wants nothing more than to torture both of them to death and right now it looks a lot like your fucking fault-”

“ _Fuck you_.” It took a second for Michael's words to sink in, but when they did Dan's stomach dropped and nothing but a searing outrage overtook him. “Fuck you, _fuck you_ , don't you _dare_ act like I care less.” It rose up now, the horror of the last few days. How terribly alone he'd felt. “Don't you get it? I have _nothing_. I have... I have _no one_.”

Michael stared at him, surprised, and Dan took a step forward.

He had been angry for a long time. But he had struggled to keep himself from getting _upset,_ especially in front of the others. Now, however, the words seemed to tear out past a steadily rising lump in his throat.

“Gavin is _all I have left_.”

A frozen silence fell between them. Dan clenched his teeth, breathing hard, and cut his hand furiously through the air.

“He's all I have _,_ ” he repeated, voice cracking a little.

He turned away, forcing himself to take deep breaths, and took a few paces towards the balcony rail, rubbing his hands over his face. Michael was silent behind him and for a moment Dan hated him, hated _all_ of them for everything that had happened. But it faded away as he stood there, clenching his jaw against the biting cold, the wind that seemed to burn and sting at his eyes.

Michael was a wild card, he remembered. Volatile and quick to anger. But he remembered what Gavin had told him about how they got together. How scared Michael was about losing the people he loved, and Dan suddenly acutely understood him. He sighed, letting his shoulders sag, nearly aching with exhaustion.

“I am so,” he admitted, “Fucking scared.”

Another silence, broken only by rain dripping from the balcony roof and the faint roar of traffic in the city below. Dan took another breath to calm himself. Let it out slowly. When he turned back Michael was looking at him with something much softer on his face, eyes wide, and Dan could see now just how afraid he was too. How afraid both of them were, all their walls down.

They didn't say anything else; didn't need to, really. After a moment Michael turned back to the rail and leaned over it, looking down at the city, and Dan came up next to him. They didn't look at each other but after a minute Michael shifted so his arm was just nudging against Dan's and Dan didn't move away, knowing the gesture to be some sort of apology – some sort of _acceptance_ – and it was comforting for him, too, to know that at least he wasn't alone in his fear.

They stood there for but a few moments before the door swung open behind them and Geoff stepped through, both of them turning to meet them. He looked concerned – had heard the shouting, it seemed – but relaxed when he seemed to realise they'd sorted themselves out.

“Everything alright?” he asked cautiously, and Michael nodded. Whatever fight the two of them had been having before seemed to have faded away now as well; he moved up to Geoff and stepped close against his side, the other man dropping an arm down over his shoulders automatically.

“It's shitty to blame anyone for this,” he mumbled, and Geoff nodded, glancing at Dan.

“Yeah. I mean, fair enough, we should have left you a number to contact us on. That one is Gav's fault, actually.”

“Why didn't you call me sooner?” Dan asked. Not accusingly. “You left me the entire night – what did you _think_ I was doing?”

“We couldn't risk it,” Geoff replied. “We had our people in the other city checking up on you to make sure you were clear with the police there. If they'd suspected you then they might have tracked your phone. But you were fine so we called you this morning-”

“Wait, what do you mean, clear?” Dan demanded then. “You mean they're not looking for me? They haven't realised what I was involved in yet?”

Geoff shook his head. “Not yet, although you don't have much fucking time. They found your FBI friend's body but they haven't identified it yet.”

“Shotgun to the head tends to make that hard,” Michael replied grimly.

Dan's heart was pounding. _Huang didn't sell me out then. Or managed to get out without being arrested herself_.

“So for the moment the police thinks I'm still on their side,” he said slowly, just to confirm it, and Geoff nodded, starting to look confused.

“Yes. Why the interest-”

“I know how to find them.”

 

* * *

 

Dan hung up the phone slowly. He turned towards the others, who were standing about the room staring at him, waiting expectantly, and nodded.

“Exactly as I thought. Coal's not back at the FBI precinct. He's not at home, either, which means that, yeah – wherever he's stashed Ryan and Gavin, he's probably over there with him.”

“Will he pick up if you call his mobile?” Ray asked – eyes lit up now, looking livelier than he had all day with the prospect of getting the others back before them.

Dan nodded. “I think so. For now he still thinks I'm on his side. But he won't want to talk long in case I suspect something's up. Unlike Mike he wasn't so obvious about being corrupt.”

“We won't have much time then,” Geoff said, and turned to where two of his employees were sitting at the computer. “The second he picks up you start tracing the call. Got it?”

They nodded, and Geoff turned back to Dan and gave a curt nod.

“Okay then.”

He felt suddenly self conscious, sitting on the chair with the others surrounding him, staring at him expectantly. Everything resting on his shoulders; the only chance of finding Ryan and Gavin in time in his hands.

He took a deep breath and dialled Agent Coal.

The phone rang for what felt like forever and for several long, terrifying moments he feared that the other man might not pick up. But then, finally, the call connected.

“Gruchy?”

He wasn't sure why the other man's voice suddenly filled him with a shiver of dread. Maybe, he realised now, because the way Gavin had talked about him – Michael too, and Ray – the lads of the Fake AH Crew didn't just hate the man. They were _scared_ of him. Dan swallowed, mouth dry, and forced his voice to remain calm, reassured by the way Geoff nodded towards his people and they started tracing the call.

“Coal! Where are you?”

A pause.

“Out on a job,” Coal replied. His voice was tinny through the phone line but there was no background noise; wherever he was, it wasn't in the heart of the city. “Where are you?”

“I've just come back to AC. Didn't manage to find anything in the other city, but it looks like the Fake AH Crew have come back here. Did your lead turn up anything?”

Another pause.

“No,” Coal replied. “I don't think they've sold the art yet. I'm still following it up, trying to find who the buyer is.”

For the first time Dan was aware of how blatantly the other man was lying to his face. He forced himself not to react – all he needed was to keep the call going for long enough that Geoff's men could pin down Coal's location.

“Do you need help?”

“No.” Coal was sounding impatient now. “Look, Gruchy, I'm really busy-”

“Do you know what Mike's working on at the moment? I haven't seen him since I got back.” Geoff was gesturing frantically, trying to get him to keep the conversation going.

“No, I haven't. I'm in the middle of something, I need to go now. We can talk later.”

“Coal-"

Too late. He hung up and Dan sighed, lowering the phone. He turned to Geoff, who was frowning where he was leaning over the people working at the computers.

“You get anything?” Dan asked.

Geoff didn't answer for a moment – both he and Jack preoccupied with what was on the screen – Michael and Ray looked at each other worriedly, then exchanged glances with Dan.

“We know the general area,” Geoff said finally. “Call wasn't long enough for us to get specifics.”

“Where is that, then?” Dan demanded, striding forward to look.

“Looks like somewhere out in the countryside,” Geoff replied. “Wow, he took them pretty fucking far out from here.”

“Is there even anything out there?” Jack added with a frown. “I highly doubt he's got them just sitting in the middle of a field.”

“Searching now,” one of the women at the computer said.

The call might not have been long enough for them to narrow in on exactly where Coal was. But like Jack had said, Coal wasn't exactly gonna be standing about in the middle of the empty countryside, and before long they were tracking down the buildings in the zone they'd closed in on.

“There,” Geoff said finally, and pointed. “Old agricultural quarantine centre. It's the only thing nearby he could be using.”

“That's hours away,” Jack replied with a frown.

“Then we'd better get moving,” Geoff said grimly. “If we take the chopper we can get there fast. Everyone go get ready. I'll call in the rest of our people.”

There were other mercenaries and security in the room with them and they set off in a great bustle to prepare. Dan paused, waiting for someone to tell him where their armoury was, but the rest of the crew were quickly distracted by Ray.

“Absolutely not,” Jack was saying in response to whatever the other had brought up.

“It's Ryan and Gavin, Jack,” Ray replied angrily, “I'm not just gonna sit here.”

“That's exactly what you're going to do,” Geoff cut in. “I'm not risking another one of you getting hurt because you rush into the field with fucking _broken ribs_. You're staying here and that's final.”

“Geoff-”

“That was not a suggestion, Ray, it was an order.” Geoff's voice was sharp but Dan could hear the worry in it and though Ray still looked annoyed, after a moment he nodded. Even Dan felt relieved at that; the last thing they needed was a liability in the field, and with Ray's injuries he wasn't anywhere near fit enough to be going along with them.

Geoff strode out with Jack, but Michael paused.

“I feel better knowing you're safe here,” he said, and Ray's face softened.

“Bring them back,” he replied, and Michael nodded solemnly. He leaned in and they kissed, gently; Dan looked away, feeling he was intruding suddenly.

They pulled apart and Michael reached up and cupped Ray's cheek for a moment before pulling away. He met Dan's eyes and even gave a small smile – anger pushed back for the moment in place of a fierce determination.

“Come on then,” he said. “Let's go get them.”

 

* * *

* * *

 

Gavin squeezed his eyes shut as Coal's fist connected with Ryan's face for what felt like the hundredth time, drawing a low grunt of pain from the other man. In his peripheral Gavin glimpsed Ryan rocking sideways, his hands tied above his head the only thing holding him up as he slumped back, coughing a little.

_Stop. Please stop_. It had been a mantra running through his head over and over, his heart clenching with every blow Coal landed on the other man. Across his face, under his jaw, kicks to his ribs, all while Gavin sat here helpless, biting hard on his lip to keep from begging. He knew that showing weakness would only make it worse.

He forced himself to look over at Ryan and felt another wrench in his gut as his boyfriend leaned over, struggling to draw a breath with his injured ribs, letting blood drip from his mouth to the dirty tiled floor. His face was bruised and bleeding, one eye nearly swollen shut, and Gavin bit his lip harder, tasting blood. Both of them were trembling and couldn't stop.

Coal stepped back, shaking blood from his knuckles as he tilted his head, staring down at Ryan.

“Not so scary now, are you?” he asked smugly.

He hadn't stopped grinning since he entered the room and it was making Gavin's skin crawl. It must have been a good twenty minutes by now and he hadn't let up. He'd laid into Ryan immediately and with relish and the pause he took now was the first break they'd gotten. For a moment silence fell in the room except for their strained breathing; Coal was staring at Ryan, he'd seemed grotesquely intrigued this entire time by actually getting to see the other's face.

After gathering himself for a moment Ryan glanced across at Gavin, meeting his eyes for a second – something _concerned_ in them, like he wasn't the one who'd just been beaten half to death – before he looked up at Coal and laughed, spitting blood at him.

“Is that all you've got?” he croaked out. “Come on, make it a bit interesting.”

Coal's face clouded over at being mocked – he'd always been proud, Gavin knew, and they'd had a riot riling him up over the years. But while Ryan might be putting on a show of bravery, Gavin would fall at the man's feet if it meant stopping him hurting him more. Coal leaned in and grabbed Ryan's hair, raising his other fist.

“Don't,” Gavin blurted out, before he could stop himself.

Coal paused where he stood and Gavin saw Ryan stiffen in alarm. He knew that the other man had been trying to keep the attention on himself, but he couldn't stay quiet any longer. He'd already rubbed his wrists bloody straining against the ropes. Sitting here helpless was _killing_ him, was even worse than if he'd been taking the beating himself.

Coal slowly let Ryan go and turned towards him, his gaze seeming to take in Gavin for the first time. Gavin stared back at him, trying to force down the suffocating fear in his chest. Hated himself for being so scared of the man, for squirming under his gaze as Coal stepped towards him.

“Oh, stop crying,” the man snapped, looking at Gavin like he was something small and annoying. “I expected more from Ramsey's number three.”

He reached out and touched Gavin's face, stroking a thumb over his cheek. His hands were sticky with Ryan's blood and Gavin shuddered, feeling sick. He tried to flinch away but Coal grabbed his chin and wrenched his head around, forcing him to look at Ryan.

“Must be killing you watching me hurt your _boyfriend_. That's what he is, right? Little frontman and the Vagabond are fucking each other?”

Ryan looked furious now, in a way he hadn't even since all this started; Gavin met his eyes and saw the anger in them, the desperation as he started tugging at the ropes.

Coal let go of his face with a rough jerk.

“It's sick,” he said. “It's fucking sick, the six of you. Jesus Christ. Just when I thought Ramsey couldn't get any worse. But, I mean, it works out for me. He's gonna come running to save you and the Corpirate will get what he wants. After I've had my fun, of course.”

Gavin glared at him, breathing hard through his clenched teeth. Coal looked down at him and laughed.

“It's precious how defiant you two are. But there's no way Ramsey can track down this place in time to find you before I move you. He has no way of knowing where we are. But don't worry,” he added, reaching out and settling a hand on Gavin's head condescendingly. “You're next.”

“Don't you fucking touch him,” Ryan growled. He yanked at the ropes again and the metal bar rattled; Coal's grip tightened in Gavin's hair, tugging warningly until Ryan stopped. The raw desperation on his face made Coal laugh, cruelly, seeming to realise that this was a _much_ better way of hurting him.

“I always thought your crew being so close was what made it so hard for me to take you down. Most other gangs here have a weak link, a chink in the armour, someone not quite so loyal as the rest of them. Not you guys. But you know, I was wrong. Whatever weird relationship you lot have going on _is_ the weak link.”

He let go of Gavin and strode back over to Ryan, scoffing.

“I've followed your work even before you joined Ramsey. You should know by now that _caring_ about people? Doesn't get you anywhere except dead.”

Ryan glared up at him and then spat in his face, a bloody string of saliva that landed square on Coal's face. The man wiped it off and then slapped Ryan hard across the face, sending him swinging sideways again – Gavin lurched forward angrily but was pulled up by the ropes again, his shoulders burning from being held up for so long – Coal reached down and grabbed Ryan's face in one hand, squeezing hard as he forced him to look at him.

“Thank you for giving me the best and easiest way to hurt you,” he said, and jerked his head around, making him look at Gavin again.

Their eyes met and Gavin could see the alarm Ryan was struggling to hide.

This was a conversation they'd had before, and one of their biggest fears, one of the reasons why they – while not hiding their relationship, per se – didn't go around advertising it either.

Coal laughed again, sensing the tension that had risen at this new threat. He released Ryan and patted him condescendingly on the cheek before stepping back as the door opened again and one of the mercenaries entered the room, gesturing for Coal to come out.

“I'll be right back,” Coal said. “And then we can have some proper fun.”

He strode out. The second the door shut behind them Ryan slumped back against the wall with a groan, a show of weakness he'd been holding in since Coal entered.

“Ryan,” Gavin cried out, twisting to face him. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” Ryan replied – Gavin inched towards him, as much as he could. His arms hurt so much by this point that it had faded into a constant background buzz of pain, his hands starting to grow numb and his previous shoulder wound a burning throb.

“I mean are you about to choke to death on blood or anything.”

Ryan shook his head. He moved to wipe his bloody face on his arm and let out a low hiss as he brushed up against his injuries.

“No, he didn't hurt me seriously. Think he was just warming up.” His eyes moved to meet Gavin's and now that Coal was out of the room he didn't bother to hide his fear. “Gav. It's dark out there; it's been hours since we were taken and the others still aren't here. Wherever he's taken us it's way far out. We need to get out of here.”

“Bit bloody hard tied up like this, innit,” Gavin muttered, but nodded, already twisting in the ropes, casting about for anything they could use to help them escape.

Ryan was right. He trusted the others to come – they had before, all the other times things like this had happened – but the problem here was that this wasn't something they could hold out on. Coal didn't want information from them – all he wanted was to hurt them as much as possible, and that was what was so terrifying about all this; in an interrogation you had the drive not to betray your crew, and your torturers had to be careful not to inflict so much damage that you couldn't give them what they wanted.

But Coal had no such reservations, and it only made the situation so much _worse_.

The ropes weren't budging. He and Ryan both tugged, trying to get the bar off the wall, but while it rattled a bit, it wasn't going anywhere any time soon. The floor around them was totally bare – Gavin still didn't have much idea where they were – and he quickly began to realise that there was nothing.

Nothing around that could help them.

Nothing they could use to escape.

His chest felt tight – he had shifted close enough to Ryan that he could feel the other man shaking, and while Ryan had gone quiet Gavin could sense that he was growing terribly upset. That he was terrified, they both were – he stretched out a leg, trying to at least touch him, but their knees had barely brushed than the door slammed back open so loudly that they both jumped, and Coal strode back in, flanked by several of the mercenaries.

“The Corpirate wants me to bring you to him,” he informed them loudly. “Which means we're gonna have to speed things up a little.”

He waved a hand and one of the mercenaries moved forward and untied the ropes around Gavin's wrists. He couldn't help letting out a noise of pain as his arms dropped after being held up for so long, the muscles burning and tingling, but he was already being forced to his feet. He tried to struggle, to seize the opportunity to possibly get free, but the man was much larger than him and quickly got his arms up behind his back, twisting until he yelled out again.

Coal punched him across the face before he could even properly react; he grunted, head snapping sideways, vision darkening at the edges as his head swam. Ryan let out a growl, surging forward, tugging desperately at the ropes – it was exactly the reaction Coal wanted, and his horrid smirk only widened as he reached out and stood by Ryan, one hand cupping the back of his head and keeping him facing the action.

“Beg me not to hurt him,” he ordered.

Gavin squeezed his eyes shut, trying to struggle free to no avail. It was a power trip; nothing Ryan could say would stop Coal from hurting him, but he knew his boyfriend would beg anyway, would humiliate himself if it meant even the slightest chance of stopping this.

“Please,” Ryan began – Coal was grinning like a Cheshire cat at his giving in so easily – one of the other mercenaries stepped forward and hit Gavin in the stomach. He doubled over, retching – another blow landed on the side of his head, making his ears ring so that he could barely hear Ryan continuing to plead. He was gasping for breath, winded, when he straightened up – the remaining mercenaries were crowded around him, distracted now with taking turns darting in to land a blow – as his head snapped sideways again he caught a flicker of movement by the door, and as he straightened up, coughing, struggling to focus, he realised with a jolt that someone was standing in the shadows, had crept in while everyone was distracted by the beating.

Another blow to the side, right where he was bruised from the shopping mall. He felt something crack a little and let out a wheezing groan, the breath punched from his lungs. Coal jeering at Ryan was blurring together with the other's begging, a ceaseless clamour in his ears.

He stumbled, the man's grip on his arms the only thing keeping him upright, and dragged his eyes back up to the figure. They were moving forward slowly now, still in the darkness by the sides of the room, careful not to be seen or heard, and as Gavin's vision slowly cleared his heart nearly skipped a beat.

_Dan_?

For a moment he was quite sure he was hallucinating. That he'd had one too many blows to the head and that his desperation was having him dream up that his friend had come to save him. But Dan's eyes met his and he slowly raised a finger to his lips.

Gavin wrenched his gaze away, not wanting to give Dan away by staring. Another blow to the face quickly had him distracted anyway.

_Why is he alone?_ He wondered frantically. _Are the others here?_

_What's going on-_

_How did he find us_ –

 

* * *

* * *

 

Somehow Dan had ended up driving with Geoff as they headed out to the quarantine centre. They had their earpieces in, but hadn't turned them on just yet, as they travelled in a silent convoy of dark cars out to the place.

The chopper had landed them some distance away and they were taking the last ten minutes there by road so as to draw less attention. Dan couldn't help but feel nervous, a low flicker of trepidation in his stomach – _what if we're too late?_ – he could tell Geoff was just as agitated, his fingers drumming anxiously against the steering wheel as they drove.

“We'll split up when we get there,” Geoff said abruptly. They'd gone over the plan already but he seemed to want to fill the silence. “You sure you're alright taking the East side on your own?”

“Yeah,” Dan replied. 'I was in the army, Geoff, I can hold my own.”

“I know.” A pause. “I don't want you to feel like we don't have your back.”

“That's not why I'm going in on my own.” It was just how the plan had worked out – the agricultural quarantine centre was a big place and they had a limited number of men they'd been able to get out here in time, so they had to spread out. After a moment Geoff nodded, sighing.

“I don't hate you, you know."

“That's bloody reassuring.”

“I mean it. Without you we wouldn't have the first clue where they are. And I know you want them back as badly as we do. Well, Gav, at least."

“I don't not-care about Ryan,” Dan said, without even really thinking about it. “And not just because it'd hurt Gav to lose him.”

Geoff stared at him for a moment, seeming dubious about that, but Dan held his ground.

“I can't blame you for what Gavin is now,” he continued. “He made his own choices. And I can't blame you for what's happened to me the last few weeks. I made my choices too.”

Geoff nodded, and they drove in silence for a moment.

“You know you can't go back to the police,” the other man said finally.

“At this point I don't think I want to,” Dan admitted.

“What _do_ you want?”

“Hell if I know.”

“Well, while you figure it out I can help you. You're welcome under our roof after what's gone on.”

Dan wasn't sure if the shock of losing Gavin and Ryan had softened him or if Jack and Ray had had some sort of talk to him at some point to inspire this change of heart. Either way he nodded, suddenly relieved that no matter what happened, _someone_ had his back, and things didn't seem quite so helpless. It was a reassurance he needed as they headed on down the road.

Night had fallen by now. It had taken them so long to find this place and a bit of time to get here. Dan could only hope that Coal hadn't moved them in the last hour or so. He breathed slowly as the large, dark building came into sight up ahead, pushing aside his fear for Gavin and trying to stay calm, to see this as just another job.

They pulled up and got out of the car, Geoff reaching out and pressing his arm.

“Stay in touch,” he said, turning on his earpiece, and Dan nodded, turning his on as well.

The plan was to split up and target different sections of the quarantine centre. Michael had a team of Geoff's mercs with him – Jack and Geoff too – but Dan was on his own, his job being to scout up ahead and call the others in if he found something.

He'd been fine with the plan at the time, but now as he broke away from the others and headed around the dark side of the building, looking for a door, he felt abruptly very alone, and could have well done with some support at his back.

“Cars are still here,” Michael muttered in his ear. He'd gone around the other side of the building, towards the front. “Which means there's _someone_ still inside.”

“That's a lot of fucking cars,” Geoff added. “He has a lot of people with him.”

The centre was old and quite disused, and when Dan came upon a narrow metal side door he half didn't expect it to open. But it did – with an alarmingly loud, creaking groan – and he slipped inside into pitch darkness.

“I'm in,” he said, switching on his torch. “I'll start checking out the East side.”

He could hear the others talking quietly, coordinating themselves as some of them headed in the West end, a few others taking out the guards at the doors, but focused on his own mission as he headed through the halls of the building. It smelt stale, like animals and wet straw and mildew, and the darkness felt like a wet blanket closing in around him. He kept jumping at sounds from his earpiece, mistaking them for noises in the silence around them, but for now, it seemed, he was completely alone.

At least until he saw light in one of the corridors up ahead, and cautiously switched off his torch, pressing himself flat back against the wall.

Most of the lights in the building were off, so to find an area of the hallway lit up was rather promising. He inched closer and found no guards in the hallway, just another closed door, but when he took his earpiece out for a minute – the others were growing quite noisy, but he tuned them out – he could hear noises coming from behind the door. Muffled shouting and thuds and yells of pain.

_Shit_.

“I found them,” he hissed, jamming his earpiece back in. “They're here in the East side; there's one block of the building with lights on-”

“I'm in shit,” Michael barked out then, and there came a rattle of gunfire from his end. “Ran into a bunch of mercs, there's a lot of them.”

“I'm nearby, I'll come to help you Michael,” Geoff cut in.

“There's some near us too.” Jack's voice was barely a whisper, obviously trying not to be heard, “We can take them out if we're quiet but it'll be slow.”

They hadn't been able to bring many men with them if they wanted to get here fast, so if Michael was heavily outnumbered it was pretty bad.

“I can't wait for you,” Dan said then. “If they know you're here it won't be long before Coal does too and he'll speed things up, I need to go in-”

“Do it, do it,” Geoff snapped, sounding harried, “Just don't get yourself fucking killed. We'll head towards you as soon as we can.”

Dan turned his earpiece down, not needing the distraction. He took several slow, deep breaths, checked his gun, and moved forward.

The sounds were still faint even close by the door, so he figured the room on the other side was large and they were not close to this end of it. Opting for stealth instead of surprise, he slowly turned the handle – not locked – and when the sounds on the either side continued, he opened it a crack, thanking God and everything he could think of that it didn't make a noise, and slipped through, moving immediately into the shadows against the wall.

A large tiled hall, lined with cages at one side – dim on this end but with fluorescent lights lighting up the opposite half of the room. His eyes locked onto Coal immediately; he was standing by Ryan's side – the other man kneeling with his arms bound above him to a metal railing. Ryan looked awful, Dan realised with horror, his face purpling with bruises, one eye badly swollen, and even from here Dan could hear him pleading for them to stop-

Stop hitting Gavin, who his eyes fell upon next; he was standing – barely – hunched over in the grip of one of the mercenaries, several others methodically beating him.

A hot anger clouded over Dan's mind and for a moment he wanted nothing more than to surge forward, guns blazing, and kill them all, every protective instinct from their childhood and since rising up to overtake him. But he had to be cautious here – he was outnumbered; there were four men plus Coal and all their backs were to him right now, so he had to play this carefully.

He crept forward, gun at the ready. _Coal first_ , he thought, and pushed aside any remorse about killing the other man with the knowledge that he was in charge here, he was the most dangerous, he had to be taken out first.

The movement caught Gavin's eye and when his head tilted up and his gaze captured Dan's, they both froze. Dan could see him struggling to work out why he was here, if he was really seeing him – he lifted a finger to his lips and Gavin looked away again.

Dan raised his gun. Aimed square at Coal's head and knew he wouldn't miss. He let out a low breath, finger tightening on the trigger-

When abruptly Coal moved; stepping forward to say something to one of the mercs that Dan couldn't quite catch. The next thing he knew the man had a gun raised, pointed square at Gavin's left knee. Ryan thrashed wildly in his restraints and Dan moved quickly, switching his aim to the goon pointing the gun instead and firing before the other man had a chance.

The shot rang out, echoing in the tiled room, and the man crumpled to the floor. The other mercenaries spun around, Coal too, and Dan turned and shot another of them.

Gavin dropped to the floor, breaking the grip of the man holding him and giving Dan a clear shot to take down that guy too. There was one merc and Coal left now and the mercenary was already firing. There was no cover in the room and Dan threw himself sideways, but Gavin had already crawled forward and grabbed the leg of the mercenary, throwing his aim off. The man kicked out, his boot catching Gavin across the face and knocking him sideways where he fell, limp. Dan took the chance to shoot him as well, missing a few times in his haste before his last shot caught the man in the neck and he crumpled to the floor with a spray of blood.

“Gruchy?” Coal demanded, aghast, as he finally recognised him.

Dan stepped forward, gun pointed at him, but Coal moved quickly and seized Ryan, bringing his own gun up to point at his head.

“Don't take one fucking step closer or I kill him,” he snapped.

Dan glanced down at Ryan but the other man's eyes were on Gavin, lying still on the floor. He realised vaguely that this was the first time he'd seen Ryan's face – covered as it was in dried blood and bruises – but quickly looked back at Coal.

The other man looked enraged, both at how quickly things had gone wrong for him and at _Dan_. In fact, he looked almost betrayed, and Dan scowled.

“What the fuck, Coal,” he spat. “You work for the Corpirate?”

“You work for _Ramsey_ ?” Coal shot back, and Dan hesitated, then shook his head, because he _didn't_ work for Geoff, not really.

“No.”

“Then why the hell did you just kill all my men?” Coal released Ryan, seeming to assume that if Dan didn't work for Geoff he wouldn't care much about him, but his gun was pointed at Dan now, both of them at a stalemate.

“They're not cops,” Dan spat. “And here I thought you wanted to take the Fake AH Crew down because it was the right fucking thing to do-”

“It is,” Coal snarled. “The Corpirate just happens to want them out of the way as well. And this asshole here,” he added, kicking Ryan hard in the side and drawing another groan, “ _Shot_ me, so the way I figure it doesn't fucking matter who I'm working for as long as they end up _dead_. What's your issue, then,” he added, “Because you're sure as fuck not a cop, not with how shifty you've been acting since you got here.”

It seemed Dan was a much worse liar than he'd thought all along; Mike was right, Coal _had_ noticed what was happening.

“You let the frontman go the first time you caught him, didn't you,” Coal said. He took another step forward, gun trained steadily at Dan. “Why?”

“That doesn't matter. Stop now and-”

“And what will you do? Arrest me?” He laughed. “What about these two? You going to let them go? You're no better than me, Gruchy, whoever it is you work for.”

The words hurt, unsettled him, because he may have made a choice but he still felt shaky about it, out of his depth. His eyes flickered automatically to Gavin, his reassurance, the one he'd always relied on to tell him what he should do.

Coal didn't miss the motion. He caught on quickly – realised that somehow, for some reason, the other man was important to him – and the next thing Dan knew Coal's gun was pointed at Gavin instead.

He stepped forward, alarmed, and Coal snickered.

“Now _this_ is interesting,” he sneered, and Dan froze, breath catching in his throat.

Coal's eyes darted between the two of them. “You know each other.”

Dan jolted, ready to deny it automatically. “We-”

“You sound exactly the fucking same,” Coal pointed out; it wasn't exactly a stretch, Dan realised now, two random British people in America who had some sort of connection. Coal's eyes were glinting now, ready to exploit this new information as he started putting more and more pieces together.

Dan had to move fast, had to do _something_ ; but before he could make a move, Ryan did.

He'd shifted so he was sitting down instead of kneeling, and he was close enough to Coal that now he brought a leg up and kicked him hard in the ankle, making him stumble. Coal's gun went off, perilously close to Gavin, and Dan moved to shoot, but Coal glimpsed his arm rising and ducked his head, using the momentum of his tripping to instead charge forward and barrel into Dan.

They went over backwards, both dropping their guns as they hit the floor. Coal was on top and he grabbed Dan's face in both hands immediately and smashed his head hard against the tiled floor. Dan saw stars for a moment, vision blacking out, but managed to get the presence of mind to bring his knee up and get Coal in the stomach, knocking him off him.

The other man was strong, though, and solidly built; he was already getting up and pulling a knife out. Dan didn't have one, and he scrambled backwards as Coal slashed at him – brought an arm up to protect himself and cried out as Coal's blow caught at it, the knife tearing through his jacket and into his flesh. He grabbed Coal's wrist, his hand slippery with blood, and struggled to hold him at bay. His head was spinning, making it hard to focus as the man bore down on him, Dan's arm shaking with the strain of keeping the knife from his throat. He brought his other hand up and tore at Coal's face, trying to dig at his eyes and nose; the other man reeled back and Dan managed to wrench his arm sideways, twisting his wrist until the knife clattered away.

He caught sight of one of their guns lying on the ground a little way away and with a great lunge shoved Coal off him and scrambled towards it. The other man noticed at the same time and tackled Dan again, landing on him before he could reach the weapon. He dug a hand down on his throat, making Dan choke – he rolled over and got a fist in against Coal's face, knocking him sideways. Punched him again, and again, heavy desperate blows that split the agent's lip against his teeth and cracked his nose sideways, blood gushing out and down his chin. Coal kicked at him, and his boot caught Dan in the ribs hard enough that he fell back and hit his head against the hard floor again.

“Gun! Gun!” Ryan shouted, loud enough to jerk Dan out of his daze, and he realised that Coal's blow had made him fall back close to where the gun lay. He rolled over and grabbed for it – Coal scrambled forward too, but not fast enough. Dan's fingers closed around the gun and he had it up and aimed at Coal just as the other man reached him.

“Don't fucking move,” he rasped, getting to his feet and stumbling slightly. He was gasping for breath, listing as his head spun and his whole body protested, but his aim stayed steadily trained at the other man's head.

Panting harshly, Coal stayed where he was on the ground, glaring up at him.

“Gonna kill me?” he spat. “Not very proper, is that?”

“I've killed before,” Dan replied coldly, finger tightening on the trigger. His arm was shaking and hurt like hell, the knife wound leaking blood at an alarming rate, dripping to the tiled floor in grotesque splatters. “And after you just tried to kill me and Gavin I'm not feeling especially _good_.”

“Gavin?” Coal asked, and seemed to realise, his eyes darting to where the other still lay unconscious. “Why the fuck do you care?”

There was a dull commotion in Dan's earpiece, still turned down – Geoff was shouting something, addressing him, and he frowned as he heard noises from outside the door as well. Something was coming their way and they didn't have much time. Whatever he was doing here he had to do it now.

“Vagabond and the others hurt you,” Coal continued. “Your 'Gavin' _stabbed_ you. I don't know what the fuck's going on here, but you-”

“You don't understand anything about us,” Dan cut in, and Coal's gaze grew cold, looking at Dan now the way he had looked at the images of the Fake AH Crew, at Ryan and Gavin as he stood there, a hatred he reserved only for Ramsey's people.

“Who the fuck is he then,” he demanded – not looking at Ryan now, or even Gavin, just at Dan. One last puzzle he seemed to still think he could get to the bottom of.

He hadn't killed Huang. But Coal was different, and Dan could still feel it, that smouldering fire of anger and betrayal. Coal seemed to him suddenly the epitome of everything that was wrong here. There was no justice in Achievement City, no good, and all Dan could see looking at him was how he had hurt Gavin, how he had stood there gleeful watching his mercenaries beat the other man. He adjusted his grip on the gun and Coal's eyes narrowed a little.

“He's my brother,” he replied, and fired.

 


	14. Chapter 14

The sound of a gunshot jerked Gavin back to consciousness; he'd been drifting, dazed and senseless after getting hit rather hard in the jaw. Had been dimly aware of noise and movement around him, but it was only now – as the commotion slowly faded into silence – that he gathered himself enough to gingerly move his limbs and start to sit up.

His head was pounding, still feeling dizzy from one too many blows to the face, and it took a moment for his vision to clear as he realised that all the mercenaries in the room were dead.

He'd barely turned in time to register Dan, standing pointing a gun at a crumpled figure on the floor, before his friend was turning, eyes widening as he realised Gavin was awake.

“Gav!” he cried, rushing towards him. Gavin tried to sit up more and winced as his ribs protested, vision flashing white with pain for a minute.

“Dan,” he choked out, and managed to get up on his knees just as the other man crouched next to him. It was Gavin who reached out, pulling him into a hug without really thinking about it. It hadn't sunk in yet quite what had gone on; all he knew was that he was in pain and they were in danger but _Dan_ was here now, and that inherently meant safety, and comfort, and that everything might be okay after all.

Dan didn't hesitate before hugging him back gently, mindful of his wounds. It was only as Gavin clung to him – holding onto him like a lifeline, face buried in his shoulder heedless of how they both felt sticky with blood – that it came back to him everything that had happened. How he'd left Dan behind and their last embrace had ended so badly.

But that didn't matter now; he could tell, in this moment, that Dan was genuinely, _frantically_ relieved to see him. His friend was shaking – they both were – just holding onto each other for a moment, the way they had so many times as children, the way he'd thought he never would again after Dan's supposed death.

The sound of someone coughing broke them apart. Gavin pulled back a bit and turned to see Ryan, and it all came back in a rush.

“Ryan – Ry, are you okay?” He detached himself from Dan and started to get up only to stumble. Dan caught his arm, steadying him.

“Careful, B.” He tugged Gavin carefully back down and reached out, turning his face towards him. “Are you alright?”

“Sore, but I'll live. Are _you_ alright?” Now that he paused to take Dan in, he realised that his arm was bleeding profusely, his entire sleeve soaked red and blood streaked across his face and everything else he'd touched, including Gavin.

“Coal sliced me up pretty well,” Dan muttered, moving his arm gingerly and wincing. A bolt of alarm ripped through Gavin.

“Coal,” he began, but Dan was already pointing, and Gavin slumped over in relief at the sight of the man lying dead on the floor. _You killed him then. You killed him. It's over_.

His thoughts turned back to Ryan and he scrambled over to him, Dan quickly following and taking up his knife to cut through Ryan's bonds. As soon as he was free he slumped into Gavin's arms with a groan – Gavin catching him and both of them flinching as it jostled their wounds. He hugged Ryan as fiercely as he'd hugged Dan, heart pounding, so terribly aware of just how much worse this whole situation could have been if Coal had been just a little more ruthless, a little more creative. Had a little more time.

“Shit,” Ryan hissed, trying to hug Gavin back and failing to move his arms, stiff from being tied above his head for so long. Dan sat down behind him and reached out to massage his sore muscles, Ryan letting out a soft groan at the contact.

Gavin sat back on the floor so they were more comfortably positioned, pulling back a bit so he could tilt Ryan's face up and lean in to kiss him gently. The relief that they were both alive, both okay, was overwhelming, and he could see it in Ryan's eyes too.

“You okay?” Ryan whispered, ever concerned for him as he finally managed to get a hand up and rest it on Gavin's shoulder.

Gavin nodded, licking blood from his split lip.

Things like this stuck with them, they always did. Seeing one of the others hurt in front of him while he couldn't do a fucking thing about it had cut deep and he knew it wouldn't leave Ryan alone easily either. But for now – for now they were fine, and they leaned in, resting their foreheads together, just breathing for a moment.

The silence was broken by Dan.

“Yeah,” he said out of the blue, “They're fine – I've got them. They're fine. Coal's dead.”

They both turned towards him to find his hand up at his earpiece. Gavin's heart picked up as he realised that Dan wasn't here alone – that the others must be here too.

Whatever Dan heard from them, he quickly looked alarmed.

“I'll try get out the East door,” he said, “Same way I came in. Keep me posted on where they're moving.”

He turned to the two of them then, and gave a weak smile.

“We've got company, lads.”

“There are other guards here,” Gavin began, and Dan nodded.

“And they're headed our way, and fast. We need to get out of here or we're dead meat. Michael and the others are heading towards us but for now we need to get our arses in gear.”

Gavin nodded. He turned to Ryan and frowned.

“Can you walk?”

“If it means getting out of here I can do anything,” Ryan replied, but grimaced as he tried to get to his feet. Both Gavin and Dan moved to help him, but the second they got upright they all swayed alarmingly and there was a moment of very dramatic tottering about from all three of them before they managed to steady themselves against the rail.

Gavin had hit his head pretty hard and his ribs were barely holding it together, but as he looked over at the others he realised that he might well be in the best shape of all of them.

“You're losing a lot of blood Dan,” he said worriedly.

Dan nodded, teeth clenched. He was pale and swaying, and Gavin frowned as he realised that whatever had gone down with Coal, it had taken a lot out of him. He struggled out of his jacket and gestured for Dan to hand the knife over, quickly cutting the garment into strips and moving to tightly bind Dan's arm. It looked like a knife wound, deep and bleeding relentlessly, but there was little they could do about it until they got out of here.

“Gun,” Ryan said then.

Dan was already holding one, and Gavin moved to pick up another two from the fallen mercenaries. He paused as he moved across to Coal's body, looking impassively down at him for a moment. In death he should have seemed smaller, he thought, less menacing, but somehow Gavin couldn't quite stop being afraid of him. Despite the pool of blood slowly spreading under his head, he half-thought the man might wake up any minute and come after them again. Shaking it off, he turned back to give a weapon to Ryan, keeping one for himself.

Even getting out of the room was a hassle. Despite his assurances that he was fine, Ryan could barely walk, and Dan's movements were weak. Gavin was in pain but mobile, but he couldn't support the weight of _two_ larger men, so ultimately he ended up walking ahead, gun at the ready, while the other two moved along behind, leaning on each other.

“What even is this place?” Gavin asked as they got out the door and Dan quickly pointed them down a dark corridor.

“Agricultural quarantine centre,” Dan replied. “It's a bloody long way out from AC too. We only got here so fast once we found it because we flew in.”

“Coal seemed pretty confident that you wouldn't be able to work out where it was,” Ryan began, and Dan gave a wry smile.

“Yeah, well, he didn't exactly count on me being there to tell them it was him what took you. Or to help them find you. I rang him and we traced the call.”

Gavin turned over his shoulder in time to see Ryan look up at Dan curiously. It was strange seeing them practically wrapped around each other to keep upright – one of Dan's arms around Ryan's shoulders, Ryan's around Dan's waist – especially with Ryan maskless as he was. It meant Gavin could see the funny, speculative look on his face as he took Dan in.

“You helped the others,” he said slowly. “You're came here with them to find us.”

“I wasn't exactly about to just leave you, was I?” Dan replied.

Ryan nodded, slowly – then looked over at Gavin and gave him a small smile. Gavin smiled back; he couldn't help but feel relieved that no matter what had happened previously, it seemed this had been enough to unite Dan with the Fake AH Crew.

Dan's hand went to his ear again as they continued down the hall.

“Michael and the others aren't far,” he began, only for them to pause as they heard voices and footsteps coming towards them.

They were still inside, but Gavin spied a door and ushered them out. They broke into a large courtyard area in the centre of the building. Gavin blinked a few times as he got outdoors for the first time in hours; it was dark, he realised – nearly a full day had passed since they were taken – and very cold.

There was a shout from the corridor and he realised that whoever had been approaching had seen them.

“Stay down,” he hissed, pulling the others towards two large skips in the courtyard. He pushed them behind them just as the courtyard door banged open and three men with guns emerged. Nothing he couldn't handle.

“Gav,” he heard Dan begin behind him, but he was already raising the gun. In dark clothes and standing in the shadows as he was, he was not easily visible and so had the element of surprise when he began firing the second he saw the figures step into the courtyard.

His hands were shaking and it took a few failed body shots before he realised they were wearing armour. By that point they'd moved to shoot back and he had to duck behind the skip as well. But he felt Ryan reach out and squeeze his arm, and took a deep, steadying breath before rising up and shooting again the second there was a gap in the firing, going for the head this time.

He was just _done_ by this point. Coal was dead and he was hyper-aware of Ryan and Dan next to him, injured and helpless and his need to protect them _both_ , and he just wanted to get the fuck out of here. So he focused, shooting without hesitation, and the three men dropped like stones, silence falling in the courtyard in the wake of the gunshots.

It took Gavin a second to register that it was over – his head was still swimming – and he slumped back down behind the skips, letting the gun slip to the floor next to him. Ryan reached out and squeezed his arm, and Gavin glanced over at him and gave a small smile.

“Nice shooting,” Dan said abruptly; Gavin turned to look at him.

There was an odd look on Dan's face. Puzzled, almost, and Gavin stiffened a bit; guns were Dan's thing, or had been. Not his. But Dan wasn't looking at him the way he had back at the start of all this. Like he didn't know who he was any more. Instead he looked almost thoughtful, as though he was fitting this new information into the jigsaw he was slowly forming of Gavin-Now.

In any case, his head was still spinning and the attention it had taken to kill three men – and the adrenaline rush – had him dizzy and tired. When he started to get up Dan put a hand on his knee, pushing him gently back down.

“Sit still for now,” he said quietly, and listened to his earpiece. “We're in the courtyard, East side of the building. Yeah, we'll sit tight.”

He turned to Ryan and Gavin, who were watching him expectantly.

“They're on their way. Dealt with nearly everyone else in the building.”

Gavin grinned, slumping back against the skip in relief, too tired to cheer even if he felt like it. Beside him Ryan was smiling too, a wide beam that cut through the mess of injuries on his face; Dan watched him curiously, seeming fascinated, it seemed, by his expressions without the mask. If Ryan minded he didn't say anything, just reached across to grab Gavin's hand.

They didn't have to wait long before the courtyard door opened again and Gavin heard Michael's voice ring out - “Guys? You there?” - and could have cried in relief. To have the others back after such an ordeal was nearly overwhelming; maybe it had only been a day since they saw each other but things had been so horrible and having them _here now_ made it rest easy in his mind that this was over.

They were out.

Coal was gone, the Corpirate foiled for now, Dan on their side – maybe, after all, after _everything_ \- maybe now things might really be okay.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Dan stood a little awkwardly by the side of the courtyard, watching the others embrace.

Jack was hugging Gavin – a desperate protectiveness in the way his arms folded around him, something relaxed and easy in how Gavin let himself fall against the larger man's chest. Nearby Geoff and Michael were fussing over Ryan, Geoff steadying him as he inspected his injuries, Michael looking relieved that he was alive and stable but angry at all that had gone on – Ryan seemed to be reassuring him, holding one of his hands, murmuring something softly that Dan couldn't hear from here. Whatever it was it made Michael's face soften a little as he leaned in and wiped some of the blood from Ryan's face with his sleeve before kissing him.

Dan didn't feel so much like an outsider as an observer as seamlessly they swapped, Jack moving over to Ryan and Geoff and Michael turning to Gavin, an easy transition that Dan marvelled at. Part of him still hadn't been quite sure how this six-way thing worked, how you could juggle so many individual relationships, but now as he watched Michael smooth back Gavin's hair and Jack settle his hands on Ryan's waist, he noticed an ease that suggested they had that all in balance. That somehow they'd found a way to make it all work.

“-nearly shot my bloody knee out,” Gavin was saying, and Dan snapped back to attention. “So things could have been a lot worse.”

Michael was scowling again. “What the fuck happened to him?” he demanded. “If he isn't already dead I'm gonna shove a grenade up the bastard's ass myself.”

Gavin laughed. “Appreciate the offer, but Dan already killed him.”

The mention of his name had them all turning to him, and Dan shifted from where he was leaning against the courtyard wall. His arm was still bleeding and he was starting to feel faintly lightheaded, so the support was actually fairly necessary.

“Shot him,” he supplied – the others had all been so wrapped up in their reunion that it seemed like they were only now remembering he was there.

“And you're certain he's dead,” Geoff began, carefully.

Dan nodded. “Yeah.”

“Dan's hurt,” Gavin said suddenly, eyes going to Dan's injured arm again. “We need to get him back to the base.”

Geoff nodded, and even looked concerned as he took in the amount of blood soaking Dan's sleeve and staining his side where he'd held it. “Yeah – yeah, let's get home. The chopper should be coming back in to pick us up, we'll wait for it outside.”

Jack wrapped an arm around Ryan's waist and helped him out, Geoff coming up by Gavin's side, Michael the other as they started to walk too, talking quietly amongst themselves. Dan was left to trail behind – he could walk on his own, just felt a little weak – but moments later Michael was dropping back next to him.

“Thanks,” he said – earnestly, looking up at Dan with something very open in his face.

Dan looked down at him and smiled a bit. “You don't have to thank me.”

“No, I do. Things might have gone down real fucking differently if you weren't here.”

“Well, let's just be glad they didn't.” He felt warmed, though, when Michael nodded and smiled at him again before noticing Gavin hanging back to talk to Dan, and moving back towards Geoff.

“Don't you start as well,” Dan began. Gavin shook his head, laughing a bit.

“No, I just wanted to say... I knew the others would come for us no matter how long it took. But I'm really glad you were here as well.”

Dan looked at him – grimy and bruised and covered in dried blood. Himself no better, both of them battered and worn down – but relaxed, somehow, he realised – Gavin's shoulders loose and the weary lines of his face easing up in the company of these men he loved, and Dan himself suddenly registering the loss of that dull weight he himself had seemed to be carrying around with him for so many years now that he often forgot it was there. A fine pair they made, and a far cry they were from the two naïve boys they’d been so many years ago back in England, heads filled with dreams and noble delusions – but they were here now. Still alive. Still together.

Still doing okay, he thought, if perhaps not in the way he'd originally expected.

“'Course I was here,” he replied, and didn't say the rest of the words on the tip of his tongue – _and I'm staying, I think – if I can work it out – I can't leave you now, anyway, I shouldn't ever have in the first place –_ Gavin knew what it meant, anyway, and stared at him for a moment before giving a small smile and reaching out to tentatively press Dan's uninjured arm, and they continued out of the building side by side.

 

* * *

 

“So what happened to the etching?” Gavin asked.

Dan sat between him and Ray on one of the couches in the rec area back at the base. His arm ached where it had been cleaned out and stitched up, but it was nothing he hadn't had before. He was feeling much better now, after getting the chance to stop and sit down and just _breathe_ for a bit, after drinking an energy shake and getting some food in him.

And, with Gavin sitting beside him now, the stress of all this had faded away. He was tired, now – exhausted really, his muscles aching faintly – but not worried.

Even _happy_ , for the first time in too long.

Geoff laughed. “It's fine, don't worry. It's still in the car where you left it. Michael picked it up when he went to check on what happened to you.”

“Good,” Gavin replied. “It'd be well pointless if we went through all this blood, sweat and tears only for the _Corpirate_ to end up with the bleedin' thing.”

Jeers of agreement from the others. Even Dan couldn't help chuckling and nodding too. And God, it was a relief to be able to _laugh_ off all the things that had happened – it was how they must cope with it, he thought, looking around at the rest of them. All the shit that went on here. Laugh at it and deal with it together.

There was an easy homeliness to the way they were sprawled out in the area now. Ryan was lounging back in one of the arm chairs; he was cleaned up now, bruised and bandaged but fine – but hadn't bothered to put his mask back on in front of Dan. He found himself less surprised than he once would have been to see the other man looking so _domestic_ , comfortable and relaxed here in what was obviously basically a second home. Smiling easily at Michael, who sat at his feet.

They'd broken the drinks out earlier, but hadn't poured them yet. As a lull fell – a happy relief settling over them as finally, finally it felt like the job was over – Geoff reached forward to start pouring.

“Time for the post-heist toast,” he declared.

Gavin exchanged a glance with Dan and grinned as they clinked glasses together; Dan smiled back, knocking back the drink quickly.

They drank to a number of stupid things. There was a lot of cheering. Ryan managed to mispronounce ‘Rembrandt’ three times. When things started quieting down a bit, Gavin cleared his throat.

“To Dan,” he declared, and looked over at him, a hesitant, soft sort of smile playing at his lips. “Without whom I would have one less knee, one less boyfriend,” he glanced at Ray, who grinned a bit; it had been hell for him to stay back here during the rescue, Dan knew, but at least they were all together now - “And would probably be dead three times over by now, so. Cheers Dan.”

Dan laughed, a bit embarrassed. Everyone was staring at him with something like approval, and if the rest of the crew had any lingering suspicions about him, they were hiding them well.

And it made him feel oddly warm now, somehow, that they all seemed to _like_ him – as though there was something like a place for him here.

Geoff was nodding now, approvingly. His eyes locked on Dan, who suddenly felt like he was being sized up again, but this time in some different light.

“To Dan,” he agreed, and the next thing he knew everyone was raising their glasses to him. All he could do was laugh again, feeling flustered suddenly, and bury his face in his own drink.

On that sentimental note, it seemed, the celebrations drew to a close. Michael started gathering up the glasses, clearing the table of what they’d eaten.

“I think some of us should be getting some _healing rest_ ,” Jack said pointedly, looking over at Ray, who pulled a face.

“I’m too old to have a bedtime, Jack.”

“Not when you’re injured you’re not,” Jack replied, and Ray rolled his eyes.

“Are you going back to your place?” Dan asked, feeling a bit awkward suddenly at the prospect of being left on his own in the base, no matter if he was on their side now or not.

He saw Gavin look over at Geoff, the others exchange glances, before Geoff shook his head.

“No sense in running around any more today. We might as well all stay here.”

Dan nodded, relaxing a bit, abruptly relieved to continue being around them all for some reason.

Ryan started to rise, Michael moving to help him up.

“I need to go shower,” he announced. “God knows what sort of germs were in that place.”

“Are you worried you’ve caught an animal disease, Ryan?” Gavin asked.

“He’s more likely to have caught one from kissing you,” Michael shot back, to snickers from the others. ”Come on, Ry, I’ll help you.”

“ _Help_ you,” Gavin exclaimed. “Don’t shag in there, you’ll slip and hurt yourself worse.”

“He speaks from experience,” Ryan said, and Dan raised his hands.

“I’m learning more than I ever wanted to,” he said, and Gavin flushed a little, despite it all being mostly banter (or so Dan hoped, anyway).

Michael and Ryan headed off, leaving the rest of them in a restful silence. Dan leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes.

He’d been up all night – it wouldn't be long until morning now - and that combined with all the action was staring to catch up to him.

It sunk in now that he really did have no fucking place to go. He'd _killed Coal_ , for God's sake. He'd fucking gone and shot the guy he was supposed to be working for over here. There would be an investigation. There was absolutely no way he could go back to England now – how would he explain all this to his boss?

“If they aren't already looking to arrest me for being involved in Mike's death, they bloody well will be after they find Coal's body too,” he said, opening his eyes again and turning to Geoff. “What's going to happen? There's a hell of a lot of attention on AC with that etching still gone, and the head FBI agent on the case turning up dead? They're gonna-”

“That's actually where the Corpirate being involved comes in handy,” Geoff cut in. “He's as involved in this shit as we are now. And his men's bodies are all over that building with Coal. He's got enough money and hands in power to clean things up – and if he doesn't, we will. Don't worry about it, Dan, we've been handling the police for years now.”

“Yeah, but it sort of leaves me with nowhere to go,” Dan pointed out.

Another silence. Gavin had gotten up to go get changed, but he paused now, in the doorway, turning to watch the ensuing conversation. Dan glanced over at him now, then at Ray on the couch beside him. Jack and Geoff were exchanging glances.

“You're safe here in the base with us,” Geoff said. “You can stay as long as you like.”

It was evident that they trusted him now – and rightly, he wasn't about to turn on them at this point.

“Do you still want to be a cop?” Gavin asked quietly.

“Detective,” Dan corrected, and sighed. “I mean, I'll be honest, this whole business has put me off law enforcement a bit. And there's no way I can go back to it now, not after everything I've done.”

“There's a place for you in the crew if you want it,” Jack began, hesitantly, but it didn't take long for Dan to shake his head.

“Appreciate the offer, but this – what you guys do – the heists and all, it's not for me.” He looked over at Gavin again. “I won't condemn you for it. But I don't want to be a part of it.”

Because it was true; had he found some new cynicism, yes, had he given up those unrealistic ideals of saving everyone, definitely. And he understood where Gavin and the others were coming from. But this thrill they seemed to get from defying the law, from stealing and causing a scene and fucking over the police and other gangs wherever possible? He didn't feel that, didn't know if he ever would. Maybe, if he stayed here, he might be turned the same way Gavin had. But right now it didn't appeal to him, some old noble moral ambition still clinging on.

Perhaps he didn't believe in heroes any more, but he didn't exactly want to go full-villain either.

“It's not all heists and stuff,” Gavin began, sounding worried now. Like he didn't understand what Dan meant and thought he was rejecting them again. “There's other stuff. Security and intel and all.”

“I don't know, B,” Dan admitted, and Gavin glanced away.

“Either way,” Geoff said, “You have time to figure that out now. Stay with us while you do. Maybe you'll change your mind, maybe you won't, either way you don't really have anywhere else to go.”

“About that,” Dan said. “I can't just disappear. And you can't just let the – the system of Achievement City wash me away as just another thing that gets covered up. People back in England – my boss, my colleagues... when I don't come back they'll start asking questions.”

“I think the safest thing to do is let Burnie take care of it,” Jack spoke up.

“Burnie?” Dan began, and then remembered. “Michael Burns? The...”

“The guy who helped me fake my death,” Gavin piped up quietly.

Dan bit his lip.

It had been one thing to turn sides and help Gavin. And he already knew he could never go back.

But to, for all intents and purposes, disappear off the face of the earth – to become _dead_ the way Gavin had – that was a step that meant fully giving up _everything_. Any chance to return to his old identity, to the person he had been. And it was terrifying, even if he knew he'd have Gavin – and the others – at his back, and he didn't know what to say, not yet, anyway.

Geoff seemed to realise, Jack too. Their eyes softened and Jack reached forward and pressed his arm.

“You don't have to decide right now. We have time. Take a while to think about it first.”

Dan nodded, but he had grown quiet, forced to think again about just what it was he wanted – what it was he needed. After a minute Ray, beside him, spoke up quietly.

“Do you want to stay here?” he asked. “I don't mean with us. I mean in Achievement City. Won't you miss England? I mean, AC is... well, you know. What it is.”

Dan hesitated. He had no one back in England, no one that he'd really miss all that much and nothing to keep him there. But it was still his _home_ , had been for a long time, and while for the most part it had been ruined for him by all that he'd done – he couldn't go back to his old job, his old apartment...

The thought of living forever in Achievement City was a daunting prospect. Part of what had been so jarring coming here was that it seemed so enclosed; its own little bubble of crime and corruption. A system that worked away following its own rules, rules he didn't much like.

The Fake AH Crew had carved a place out for itself here. But right now he still felt rather like an outsider, so unsure of himself and what he wanted to do that he didn't know if he could fit in here either.

But where else was there to go?

He took too long to answer and Gavin, still in the doorway, turned and walked out. Dan glanced after him, concerned – he was just uncertain, hadn't meant by his silence that he wanted to _leave_ – but it was too late now.

“Think about it,” Jack repeated, and gave a small smile. “You should get some rest now. No sense trying to figure things out when we're all exhausted.”

Dan nodded, and smiled back as the two of them left the room. Ray sat beside him a while longer, and Dan appreciated the company, even if they weren't talking – just processing all that had happened that day, and where it had left them – before finally bidding him goodnight and heading off after the others.

Dan was left in silence, in the quiet of this place that was no more or less a home to him than anywhere else he'd lived, and shut his eyes, trying to picture just where the future might take him. Everything he'd worked for was gone, his heroism faded into realism.

And he did, at heart, want to stay here, with Gavin, but the abiding problem was _how_ -

_What can I do here?_

_Where do I fit in_?

 

* * *

* * *

 

It was only as Gavin finally wound down for the night – sitting on the edge of the bathtub pulling a bandage tight around his ribs again – that it finally hit him that it was over.

Coal was dead.

Even aside from the whole Dan and artwork business, they'd been trying to kill the FBI agent for a hell of a long time. Now that they were miles away from the quarantine centre, safe and warm and _together_ , it finally, _finally_ felt like this whole awful business was complete.

He wandered out into the bedroom that they mainly used when they all stayed here together to find Ryan and Michael already there, talking softly. They looked up when he came in and smiled.

“Alright Gav?” Michael asked.

He nodded, climbing onto the bed and crawling to curl up next to Ryan, inspecting his injuries. He still looked awful, even cleaned up and home now; his face was swollen and bruised, dark dried blood on part of his lip and t-shirt bulky from the bandages underneath. Gavin had seen him injured worse before but it still hurt, to know that he'd witnessed every one of those blows.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, reaching out to take Ryan's hand, thumb rubbing gentle circles over the other's knuckles. Ryan looked tired and there was something almost guilty in the way he looked at Gavin now, taking in his own battered face.

“He hurt you because he hates me,” Ryan replied. “Because I shot him. I-”

“Nope, no, don't you fucking start that up,” Michael cut in quickly. “No guilt-tripping. Coal's an asshole and you shot him to save my sorry ass, so don't you dare even try to apologise.”

“We've been over this before,” Gavin replied, because they had; Coal was right about one thing, it was dangerous caring about people in their business. That didn’t mean they were going to stop.

Ryan gave a small smile, and Gavin smiled back, leaning in to kiss him; a light, gentle press of lips, mindful of how injured he was. They were rattled right now, but he knew they'd be okay.

He turned to Michael then too, knowing that it was just as awful – possibly even worse – being the one who had to go out to the rescue, constantly terrified that you'd be too late, that the others were hurt badly or dead. He met Michael's eyes and the other gave a small nod – he'd be alright too – and Gavin leaned over Ryan to kiss him as well, this one harder, more passionate, fingers clenching in Michael's shirt as the other man grasped his face in careful hands.

He was so absorbed that he didn't notice Geoff and Jack enter the room until the bed creaked next to him as they sat down.

“Everyone okay?” Geoff asked, glancing over to smile at Ryan.

Gavin pulled away from Michael and turned towards them. This bed wasn't built for three grown men, let alone five, but they were all squashed together so much that he could settle back easily between Geoff and Ryan, cuddled up against both of them. Geoff wrapped an arm around his shoulders immediately, Ryan bringing a hand up to tangle his fingers in Geoff's.

“We're good,” Michael said, grinning at Jack. “Where's Ray?”

“Sitting out with Dan still,” Jack replied.

“Is Dan alright?” Gavin asked, frowning a bit.

He had been so happy that Dan came to rescue him that he'd initially assumed that everything was fine, that Dan had joined them and that would be the end of it. Naive, he realised now, stupid of him; even if he'd taken their side Dan had never been like him. Of course he wouldn't want to just take up a life of crime the way Gavin had. He had changed, yes, but not that much.

It left him very unsure what would happen next. But they had time, he knew, to figure it out, and he wouldn't let it upset him. Not tonight when things were finally _fine_ for once.

Jack nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “He'll be fine, I think.”

“I'm glad you're all getting on now,” Gavin said.

Michael smiled a bit. “Took a bit, but. He's a good guy. In pretty much every sense of the word, so. I look forward to getting to know him even more.”

“I don't know if he'll stick around,” Gavin began, then yelped as Geoff poked him in the side, mindful of his injured ribs.

“Of course he'll stick around, idiot. I don't know how _you_ of all people can't see it, but Dan isn't going anywhere that you're not going. Even if he doesn't end up joining us I doubt he'll go far.”

Gavin nodded, and Geoff leaned in then, pressing a kiss to his hair. He let himself relax, dimly aware of Jack moving around to Ryan and Michael's side of the bed, moving in to cuddle with them.

“Someone is going to fall off that bed,” a voice from the door rang out, and Gavin looked over to see Ray standing watching them with a fond smile.

Geoff stretched out a hand to him. “Come on, there's room for six.”

“There's really not,” Ray replied with a laugh, but limped over to them and climbed up anyway, squeezing into Geoff's other side. They were very precariously squashed together now – it was rare for all six of them to try and sleep together when they weren't back at their apartment, or even then – and he couldn't help laughing as they all jostled for room.

“Roll over! Roll over!” Michael cried, clinging to Jack to avoid tumbling off.

“There's nowhere to roll _to_ ,” Ryan protested, trapped in the middle and struggling not to aggravate his ribs by laughing. “Someone has to get out!”

“ _Please remember to tie a knot in your pyjamas_ ,” Gavin sang, stilling them for a moment as they stared at him.

“What does that even _mean_ ,” Michael demanded, clawing his way back up onto the bed.

“You don't have that song? _There were six in the bed and the little one said_ -”

“Of course we know that song, but there's nothing about fucking knotty pyjamas in it.”

“There is! There is!”

“There fucking is _not_.”

“There is and I shall google it and it shall be Pubert Addams all over again,” Gavin said, and they all groaned.

“Don't start,” Ryan said. “You already lorded that over us for weeks afterwards.”

“Let him have his moment, Ry,” Geoff said, pulling Gavin into a noogie. “It's not often this one gets to be right.”

“Oi!” Gavin squawked, and squirmed free. For a moment there was a great ruckus as he disrupted everyone else on the bed with his scrambling about, but when it settled they had finally managed to get themselves into some sort of order; legs and limbs tangled over each other but everyone in the bed and relatively comfortable.

A peaceful silence settled over them; Gavin smiled, enjoying the warmth of Geoff's arm around him, how his head fit neatly against Ryan's shoulder. Michael's leg brushing his under the bed sheet, Ray's head resting against his hip. Jack smiling back at him from the other end of the bed.

“The other buyers are still up for that etching,” Geoff spoke up finally.

“Keep business out of bed,” Ryan began, but teasingly; Geoff laughed and continued.

“They won't pay as much but we'll still make a good amount. I'll arrange the trade and send some of B-team off to do it, quick and quiet. And then it'll be off our hands for good.”

“Do you regret it?” Jack spoke up suddenly, quietly, “Deciding to pull this big heist. I mean, it did cause us way more trouble than it was probably worth.”

“Hey, it was fun,” Michael said. “Until, y'know, everything went fucking _wrong_.”

There was a moment of quiet. This was a conversation they'd had many times and avoided even more; the money wasn't worth it if one of them died or got hurt. But they pushed that aside a lot; they'd put a lot into getting where they were now, they _did_ enjoy the thrill – Dan being mixed up in things had just ruined this one a bit.

Geoff shook his head finally, looking around at the others.

“Things worked out the way they did. And we're okay now, aren't we? And Dan's here with us, and he's okay too – God knows how differently things might have gone if we'd cancelled the heist, but either way it doesn't matter now. What's done is done. So fuck it, I don't much care to think about all the could-haves and might-have-beens. We are where we are and where we are is fine.”

There was a pause as he looked around at the rest of them, found them nodding – there was so much you had to brush off, even when things hit as hard as they had the last few days. A quiet settled over them for a minute before Ray broke it with a solemn nod and a declaration of, “Hashtag deep.”

Gavin laughed, the others did too, but he caught Ryan and Jack both looking over at him fondly, seeming pleased to see him happy and giggling again.

They settled into a comfortable silence again, and Gavin was started to drift off, nestled pleasantly between the others' warmth. His thoughts were drifting, settling on too many different things – what they'd done, what they'd do now – but he jolted awake a bit when he thought about Dan again.

He didn't want to leave things with him tonight, unfinished as they were – suddenly needed to see him again, make sure he was okay on his own.

He sat up a bit, and Geoff stirred – the others were dozing off too, Ryan already passed out and fast asleep, everyone else very close behind.

“Where're you going?” Geoff mumbled, catching at his wrist as Gavin started carefully climbing over him to get out of the bed.

“Dan,” Gavin whispered, and Geoff nodded, letting go of him and giving a small smile.

“Okay,” he replied, and Gavin smiled a bit, a warm feeling swelling in his chest at how much the others seemed to care about his friend now. He slipped out of the room quietly.

 

* * *

 

Dan was not in any of the bedrooms on the level, but it didn't take Gavin long to find him. He was sitting outside on the balcony – cross-legged on the floor, looking out over the city – watching the cloudy, white winter morning slowly dawn. Gavin thought he was out there to smoke at first, but when he opened the door and came out, hissing a little at the sudden cold, he couldn't smell cigarettes.

Dan glanced up and gave a small smile when he realised who it was.

“Hey,” he said, and Gavin smiled back, coming to sit down next to him.

“Hey,” he replied.

Dan turned back to watching the sky lighten. Gavin followed his gaze, watching as Achievement City started to rouse itself back into the daily grind, traffic starting to pick up over the bridge, boats setting out across the harbour as the morning business of the city began.

“Are you feeling okay?” Gavin asked, glancing over at Dan's injured arm. He still looked a bit pale. “You should rest.”

“I will in a bit,” Dan replied. “Wanted to clear my head first. How about you?”

“I'll be fine,” Gavin said, though he shifted the way he was sitting a bit to put less pressure on his ribs. Dan watched him, concern in his eyes, before turning away with a sigh.

“So here we are now, then,” he said, glancing out over the city again.

“Here we are,” Gavin repeated.

A quiet fell over them, broken only by the occasional rising bird call. They were sitting close enough to touch, but Gavin still felt hesitant about it suddenly; for all that had happened part of him was still terrified to reach out, afraid that Dan would realise this had all been some mistake, that he didn't want this after all.

After a moment, though, Dan spoke.

“What I said before – I'm not leaving. That's not what I meant.”

“Oh.” Gavin relaxed, let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, and Dan looked over at him again and smiled a bit.

“I mean it. I'm just... not sure where I fit in here. What I want to do now. But I'm not going to leave you again. I don't think I could.”

“I'm glad,” Gavin replied. And then, hesitantly, “It's hard. Leaving everything behind. If you do end up getting Burnie to help you... it feels strange at first. Giving up everything you have. But you find new things. I did. And if you do it, this time... I didn't have anyone. But you'll have me. And all the others; they like you, you know.”

“That's a relief,” Dan said, and Gavin chuckled.

“I mean it. They do.”

“I know. And thanks, Gav.”

“It's fine.” He plucked up his courage now, shifting closer until their knees were touching. Dan glanced over at him and smiled wider, leaning closer against him until his arm was pressed to Gavin's. After days of being so careful, of keeping some forced distance between them, it was a heaving relief, and Gavin smiled, looking down, not wanting to ruin it somehow.

“You don't call me B anymore,” Dan said suddenly.

Gavin glanced up at him, hesitant. The nickname was stupid, had been habit more than anything else, but it was such a reminder of how close they used to be that to hear Dan start calling him that again over the last couple of days had _meant_ something, that they were moving back towards that friendship that had been the only thing they clung to growing up.

And there was something awkward in Dan's voice now, like he wasn't sure about bringing it up, because when it came down to it Gavin had gone on and formed new relationships and he hadn't, and it struck Gavin suddenly that he wasn't the only one who was scared about ruining things here. That maybe Dan, too, had been afraid that Gavin had moved on without him, didn't think their relationship was as important any more now that he had his five boyfriends.

Gavin swallowed, licking his lips nervously.

“I thought you didn't want me to,” he admitted quietly.

Dan blinked a few times, then his eyes widened in realisation, remembering what had happened under the bridge, back when he'd been so, so angry about what Gavin had done. Had been unable to do anything but shout and push him away.

They had moved on since then, and maybe it was silly that Gavin had stayed too scared to push it, to try again, but he'd always found it hard to reach out when he genuinely wanted something. Rejection tended to hit him hard; he'd spent too long alone after Dan's supposed death.

“I'm not mad at you anymore, you know that,” Dan said, simply; Gavin knew what he meant, and nodded, smiling a bit.

“I know. But for what it's worth... I don't think I ever properly said it, but I'm sorry.”

“You don't need to apologise-”

“No, I do. No matter how it's turned out now, no matter how much I can explain or justify it to you... I fucked up the things we always believed in and I dragged you into this shit too. And you had a right to be angry.”

Dan shook his head. “What you said back in that hotel room... you were right. We were _kids_. Make it better was about saving others, sure, but it... it came from wanting to save ourselves. We were kids in a fucked up place but we got out of there. And you know, we're okay now, I think. Maybe not yet but we can get there and even back then – even back then we had each other. That was important. It went to shit when we lost that but we have it back now.”

“Dan...”

“I know we don't say it much to each other,” Dan admitted, gruffly now, quick and almost embarrassed. “But you... you do mean a lot to me, B, you know that. After you were gone it was never the same. And if I lost that again I don't think I could ever be properly happy. So I'm not going anywhere.”

Gavin smiled a bit, finally relaxing, letting himself lean into Dan's side.

“Okay,” he said simply. “And same here, I... I still missed you every day, even if I was happy with the others.”

He felt Dan nod next to him, and finally, _finally_ , it felt like he had him back – like they weren't just making a show of it any more, trying futilely to get back to how they had been. They could never be those kids again. But they'd grown and changed now and struck some new balance.

But still one lurking worry.

“Do you... do you know at _all_ what you want to do?” he asked quietly. “I know you don't want to join us and that – that makes sense. You helped me but you're not like me. I was weak, I gave up _everything_ we believed in, not even just the unrealistic stuff-”

“You're not weak,” Dan cut in. “Like I said before. Neither of us asked for any of this. You're what everything made you – you adapted to a shitty situation.”

“Doesn't make me good,” Gavin said, but that didn't seem to matter much any more. “Dan... _B..._ I want you to stay. But if you don't find a way to be happy here-”

“I'm already a hell of a lot happier than I was before,” Dan interrupted, and shushed Gavin when he opened his mouth again. “Look, B,I'll say it one more time, _I'm not going anywhere_. I'll figure it out, okay? We thought we knew what we wanted as kids; that all changed. But we got here, didn't we? I'll work it out eventually. And I know you'll help me, you always did.”

“Okay,” Gavin said quietly. And thought about all the times he and the others had had these worries, about what the fuck they were doing, where they were going, what they wanted from each other and this life – they always ended up having to just let it go, to let things be.

Why should this be any different?

Dan was staying, and he'd find something to do with himself, and for now, he just let himself _have_ _this._ To revel in the fact that he was alive-

And his boys were alive-

And he had his best friend back, the man that was as close as a brother to him, who he'd never dared hope to see again.

That was more than he could ever have asked for, more than he probably deserved, but here they were now. And despite everything that had gone so awfully wrong the last few weeks, all the pain and blood, sweat and tears – it was worth it for it to work out now, to be able to sit here, Dan warm at his side on this cold chill morning, in the place he'd carved out as his _home_ in the middle of this fucked-up city. And when, after a second, Dan leaned his head against his shoulder, he didn't stiffen, didn't worry about accidentally making him pull away. Just dropped his arm down around his shoulders and turned back to watch the sun rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the last proper chapter aha! Epilogue coming in a couple of days~
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone for all the support so far, your kind words and kudos have kept me motivated throughout this work!


	15. Epilogue

“I am going to throw the knife,” Gavin declared.

“You are not going to throw the knife,” Ryan replied, struggling to get the words out with how much he was laughing. “Oh my God. Give that to me. You can't – it's a fucking _box cutter_ , you won't be able to throw it anyway.”

“I bet you fifty dollars I can get it to stick in the wall.”

“Can we not destroy my new apartment, thanks,” Dan laughed, plucking the box cutter from Gavin's hand as he held it back to throw it. “Jesus Christ, I let you in here for two minutes and you're throwing bloody knives at the walls, someone's already spilled red bull on the carpet-”

“It wasn't me,” Ray said, quickly scuttling away from the stain.

“-for God's sake.”

“Dan.” Gavin caught at his wrist and Dan looked down at him. Couldn't help but smile at the sight of his friend's mischievous grin. “We're giving _character_ to the room, Dan. Fifty dollars and if it sticks in the wall you have to put a dart board up there.”

“There's no way you're gonna get it in,” Dan said, but rolled his eyes and handed him the box cutter back. “Fine, you can try.”

“You are so whipped, dude,” Michael laughed from where he was lounging on the couch, the single piece of furniture they had managed to assemble so far and only then because it had come mostly put together already. “Do you just do everything he tells you?”

Dan glanced at him, amused, but didn't answer, settling back to watch as Gavin bit his lip in concentration, aiming carefully.

Maybe in their youth he had followed Gavin's lead in almost everything they did. Part of what had been so hard about realising his friend was back and working with the Fake AH Crew had been the lack of someone he trusted to advise him, guide him.

Now – two months on – they'd settled into something else, a different sort of dynamic, though no less close than what they'd been before. It wasn't just the two of them any more, even if they were still best friends. With the other five around things had shifted, and while yes, maybe he had spent quite a lot of time following Gavin around like a lost puppy, it was only because he was so unfamiliar with Achievement City and the people here.

But it had been two months. He'd learned now, enough to get his own place, start standing on his own two feet here.

“It's not gonna work,” Ryan was protesting. “It's not a throwing knife. It's barely an actual knife.”

“What if I throw it by the blade,” Gavin began, extending said blade out to a ridiculous length. Dan couldn't help laughing, only cracking up even more when he threw it and failed horribly, the knife clattering uselessly off the wall.

“Told you,” Ryan said.

Gavin humphed and Dan pulled a face at him as he went over to pick up the box cutter. It had scratched the paint on the wall and he ran a finger over the damage, unable to even bring himself to feel angry. Gavin was right, it did add character to the room. Made it look more lived in, despite his just moving in. The last thing he wanted was to end up somewhere as clinical and bare as every other place he'd stayed in over the last few years.

He turned back to the others and couldn't help but smile at the sight of all of them sitting around in the living room of the apartment, cardboard boxes strewn about everywhere as they helped him with unpacking. He'd expected only Gavin to come over but all of them had, and he felt oddly fond of them suddenly. He remembered the last time he'd moved, after being transferred from Oxford to London. Barely bothering to take stuff out of his suitcase, the flat so quiet and empty and lonely.

Now Jack was poring thoughtfully over an Ikea chair instruction manual, Ray leaning over his shoulder and making unhelpful comments about inserting tab A into slot B. Ryan was attempting to show Gavin the finer techniques of knife throwing with an actual fucking knife he'd produced from God knew where, Geoff was laughing at the both of them, and Michael was methodically throwing bits of packing foam at Gavin, trying to get them to stick in his hair. It was rowdy and noisy and felt way more like home than anywhere else he'd been in a long time.

He wandered over and plonked himself back down on the floor beside Gavin, reaching to open another box. The other man turned away from Ryan and moved to help him.

“It's gonna be weird not having you around the base,” he said, and Dan couldn't help but smile, a little touched.

“You'll still see me around, B.”

“Yeah, but you'll be busy, won't you.” He nudged Dan's knee with his. “Off on your quest to become the next Sherlock Holmes.”

“Shut up, I'm _not,”_ Dan huffed, a bit flustered.

It had taken him a while to come up with the idea, and even longer to think about it enough to feel confident seriously considering it as something he could do.

When it came down to it, he knew he could never join the crew. He'd thought about it, long and hard – had watched them go about their business and asked Gavin to tell him more about what they did, and not just the exciting parts. The dark and dirty parts, the parts he might not be so proud of, and his friend had obliged, a little hesitantly at first, but seeming glad eventually to keep no more secrets between them.

And Dan _got it_ , he got that need to buck against the system in a much different way to what he and Gavin had originally planned. But he didn't think he could be a part of it. And even if it was useless to try and clean up this city, to try and be a hero here-

Part of him still wanted to do something halfway helpful. Maybe nothing on such a grand scale as he'd planned before, but _something_. Something.

It had taken him a lot of damn hard work to work his way up to detective sergeant and it'd be a shame to waste those skills. The idea of becoming a private detective had seemed stupid at first – overly romantic – but when he mentioned it to Gavin the other man had jumped on the idea with even more enthusiasm than Dan.

The Fake AH Crew had allies, and a lot of them were little people – business owners in AC, doctors or lawyers or shopkeepers. People with _families_ who fell in with the crew for protection. And while Geoff protected them from the worst of the gang wars, there was still a lot of internal drama and petty crime that wasn't his business, but that the corrupt police force couldn't be anywhere near trusted enough to deal with.

“Our people will like it,” Gavin had said, excitedly expanding on the idea the minute Dan brought it up, initially little more than a throwaway thought. “Having someone who can look into things for them. Those crimes and mysteries that no one else would care about. You investigate them, find out what happened and if it needs doing something about, and then Geoff and the rest of us can help deal with it if need be – we don't have time to look into everything ourselves. But with you doing all the groundwork we can just come in to provide manpower if you need it."

“You don't think it's stupid? Bit like trying to be some sort of... I don't know. Weird vigilante.”

“Captain England indeed,” Gavin had grinned, nudging at him. “But I don't think it's stupid, B. You know, people here put up with a lot of shit. The other gangs don't really care much about their clients, just use them for what they can give them. And people don't really come to us for _help_ , not unless it's something big and serious. But we know, don't we,” and he'd fallen serious then, a little frown at his lips, “It's not just the big and serious stuff that matters.”

Dan nodded, relieved to have someone else's support. And they'd given the idea more thought – worked out, logistically, how it'd work. Burnie had already been putting things in motion and it was only a week later that Dan's 'body' showed up in the countryside near the quarantine centre. For all intents and purposes he was dead.

And now here he was, moving into his own flat above an office in the city area close to the Fake AH Crew's base. Geoff had already begun telling the crew's contacts and clients about him and he'd already had a number of calls from people who wanted to meet with him to discuss a case.

“You need to grow a moustache like Geoff's,” Gavin said then, reaching up to poke at Dan's cheek – he'd gone clean shaven again a few weeks ago; maybe it was cliched but it had felt something like a fresh start to be free of the beard. “Then you'll be like, what's his name? Hercule Poirot?”

“I've never heard someone so horrifically mispronounce that name,” Ryan cut in. “It's like _Pwa-roh_. Didn't you take French at school?”

“German,” Gavin and Dan replied in unison, and exchanged a grin.

“Don't you tell me how to pronounce things,” Gavin added, rolling over to jab at Ryan's side. “Mr. _Apex_.”

“Shut up, it was one time-”

“It was at least two times. And don't forget _allocate_ -”

“Children, please,” Geoff cut in, as Ryan made a lunge to tickle Gavin and he crawled away, squawking, rolling perilously close to where Dan had rather carelessly left the box cutter lying on the floor. “Can we do something useful? Jack's struggling, go help him.”

“I'm not struggling,” Jack replied calmly, having assembled three chairs and half a table on his own already.

“Fucking master builder over there,” Geoff said, and turned to Dan. “Also, I'm gonna buy you a deerstalker.”

Dan rolled his eyes, laughing. They were all teasing about the detective thing, but he knew it was something needed here. He'd been good at what he did and he had found satisfaction in the cases he'd taken over in England. He couldn't change the world, or even this city, but a few things – little things – he could help people, people who were on the same side as Ramsey's crew. And he thought that might be enough for him, now.

“There's more boxes in the car,” Jack said, getting up and stretching a bit. “Let's grab them now so we don't forget about them.”

Ryan and Geoff got up to help him; after a second Gavin did as well, leaving Dan alone with Ray and Michael, the latter of whom had finally gotten off the couch and begun helping Dan unpack some of his boxes of kitchenware. It had been weird buying things over from scratch. He wondered who his belongings in England would go to. He hadn't made a will, had no one to leave them to anyway.

“Gav's right,” Michael said abruptly after a moment, as Ray came over to help them as well. “It's gonna be weird not seeing you around the base all the time.”

“I'll still visit. Probably a lot.”

“I know,” Michael said, and gave him a small grin. “But still. Good luck with this. It's pretty damn admirable finding a way to still do good while working _outside_ the law.”

Dan nodded, appreciating the other's reassurance. It had been easy to get close to Michael; he and Gavin went drinking regularly, Geoff too, and going along had helped a lot in bonding with them. He couldn't remember the last time he had proper _friends_ , aside from Gavin, but even in the short span of time he'd known them, he'd gotten close enough to consider the rest of the Fake AH Crew so. Ray he had spent quite some time with too, enough to feel well comfortable around him now as they continued unpacking together.

“Has Gavin told you about the Corpirate yet?” Ray asked now, and Dan paused, turning to him, a slight chill running down his back at the man's name.

“No. What about him?”

“After what he did Geoff's been planning to make a move against him. Show him who's boss, kill him if we have to. It's gonna be big,” Ray said, “The guy's a big name over here. It's mostly plans at the moment, working out who we should take out to start dismantling his empire. We'll have a lot more control in the city after that.”

“I see,” Dan said quietly.

“We're not asking you to help out,” Ray continued then. “We're fine on our own. But since you were involved with Coal and all that... dunno. Thought you might want to know.”

Dan nodded. It was testament to everything he'd seen over the last few months that it barely phased him to hear about this move. But it was good to know what was coming up next, and while once he might have been fretting about the notorious crew gaining even more control, knowing what he did now had him seeing things in an entirely new light. Achievement City continued on its way, struggles for power and territory playing out constantly, and while he wasn't directly involved, being close enough to know what was going on – to keep an eye on Geoff and know that he wasn't _cruel_ , was just playing the survival game and taking care of his own in this place – had him feeling, ironically, more secure than he ever had back in England.

“Good luck with that,” he said then, and Michael and Ray exchanged a glance before smiling at him.

There was a noise at the door and the gents came back in, carrying several boxes between them. Dan moved to help Ryan with one, but the other man waved him off.

“Gav's struggling,” he said. “Could probably do with you helping him take some stuff in.”

Dan nodded, heading off downstairs to the van they'd brought his belongings over in. The office and flat were in a quiet neighbourhood, an area under Geoff's control, and while he wasn't about to get careless, it was nice feeling at least partially safe knowing he had the crew at his back here.

Gavin was dragging a large furniture box from the van towards the office, and Dan quickly moved to help him.

“Cheers B,” Gavin said, moving to hold the door instead as Dan pulled the box – a desk, he thought – into the office. They both paused there, tired – this didn't have to go upstairs, anyway – and Gavin looked around the office space before smiling a bit.

“Does it feel weird? Knowing this is gonna be what you do from now on?”

“Feels like any other new job,” Dan replied, except it wasn't, not really, not when he had finally found his place here, when he needed so desperately for everything to go well.

Gavin grinned. “You'll be right. People here will probably love you much more than they love us.”

“You've got five people who love you,” Dan replied, without really thinking about it, and a soft look came over Gavin's face.

“I'm sure we'll find you a nice cross-eyed girl somewhere in this city,” he said, and then laughed, dodging as Dan aimed a half-hearted swipe at him.

“I mean it though,” he said, when Dan turned away to start opening the box. “I think you'll be fine here.”

“I hope so.” Dan sighed, running his hands over his face; for all that he felt relieved that he had a plan now, a job in mind, it had still been a stressful few months, especially seeing the media's version of events play out on the news. They'd finally identified Mike's body, had found Coal's too – Huang had vanished into the wind, and Dan was still faintly paranoid that despite his saving her life, she was going to come after him for killing Carver. And Burnie helping him fake his death – watching that play out too, knowing that it was the final tipping point and he could never go back – that had been hard, for reasons he couldn't quite put words to.

Gavin was watching him carefully, and after a second he reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

“I guess we're both ghosts now,” he said softly, and Dan stopped what he was doing to look up at him.

There was an earnest look in Gavin's eyes, and that and the warmth of his hand on Dan's arm were suddenly, overwhelmingly reassuring.

However hard it was for him, it must have been ten times worse for Gavin, making this same switch in England. Dan's death raw in his mind, the stress of having to flee the entire bloody country, no one to trust except Burnie. No plan in mind, no idea what he was doing after giving up everything he believed in.

But Gavin was fine now, and Dan – Dan would be fine too. He had Gavin to help him, after all, and all the rest of them.

“Maybe,” he replied, and smiled. “But the old Gav and Dan... they were on a fool's errand. Better to be what we are now.”

“You really think that?” Gavin asked, and shifted a bit. “We haven't really... I mean, I know you still don't think it was right. Stealing that etching. And we're gonna keep doing shit like that, you know.”

“I know,” Dan replied.

“I know you don't approve.” Gavin glanced at him and Dan could see the unspoken words. _Maybe you're just a better person than I am. Maybe you still want me to change_.

He didn't.

Gavin was what he was now, and he'd seen enough of this city to understand why. Sure, Dan could still help people, could still _try_. He'd clung to enough of those old beliefs.

But he'd also grown, in his time alone. Before Gavin had always been the one with a plan, the one who pressed the idea of making it better. And even if Dan had adapted that to something more realistic, to what he wanted to be here and now, he didn't need Gavin to be the one with the plan anymore. He could stand on his own two feet, and he had enough of a new perspective now that he could still be friends with Gavin – could still _love_ him – no matter that they were on different paths. Change him, no, keep him on something like the right track, yes. From what he'd seen in his interactions with the others he didn't think they'd ever cross that line into becoming something he couldn't stand by. For now, Geoff was right. Nothing was black and white here.

“It's just a picture,” he replied. “A vastly overpriced picture that is now gonna hang in some rich, corrupt asshole's mansion with absolutely no bloody appreciation for the fact that you nearly died stealing it. But, y'know, the Avengers masks were pretty funny.”

Gavin cracked a grin, knowing what Dan was saying without him having to spell it out. He held out a hand and Dan took it, letting Gavin heave him to his feet.

“Come on,” he said, tugging Dan towards the stairs. “Let's make sure the others aren't destroying the flat. Pissing all over the walls or anything.”

“Oh, lovely.”

They were not, in fact, pissing all over the walls, but someone had made a rather large mess of foam peanuts, and Gavin immediately took it upon himself to start an impromptu snowball fight with Michael and Geoff. Dan laughed, moving to help Jack push the table he'd put together out of the way, and when he turned back around it was to find Geoff with Gavin in a headlock, messing his hair up – Gavin laughing and squirming – Michael throwing handfuls of foam over them both, only to lean in after a moment and kiss Geoff after he said something Dan didn't quite catch. The other man let his grip around Gavin's shoulders soften, but didn't quite let him go, keeping him pressed between them as they kissed.

Dan looked over to find Jack watching them, something soft in his eyes; Ray was too, a little smile playing at his lips.

And maybe it should have been easy to feel like a seventh wheel here, like some sort of intruder, like Gavin didn't need him anymore when he had all this.

But the last two months, staying at the base with them – it had been fine, it had been _good;_ and if anything the others had seemed to enjoy having a new friend around, someone who was close without being part of the actual relationship. Not to mention how happy Gavin had been to have him around and things fine between them.

And looking at them now, he remembered what Gavin had told him, back at the start. That it wasn't about sex and it wasn't about money and here, now, they weren't the Fake AH Crew, not really. Ryan had his mask off and Geoff's smile was wide and genuine, nothing like the asshole smirk he put on for security cameras and police mugshots, and Gavin was gripping the front of Michael's shirt now, beaming at him with such open _affection_ -

They were a family, and Gavin turned towards Dan then, and his smile didn't falter as he grinned at him instead. Dan grinned back, easily, feeling settled in his own skin for once as he shook his head fondly and turned back to helping Jack.

Gavin was wrong, he realised. No matter what they'd done, no matter what they'd been through, what they'd left behind or cast aside, they weren't ghosts. They were alive, here and now, and they'd be okay, and somehow, in this weird, wild city, they'd made a place for themselves. A future. And for the first time in a long, long time, he was looking forward to it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus we reach the end of this story aha.
> 
> **There are no plans for a sequel.**
> 
> Thank you so much to all of you for reading, leaving kudos, comments, etc - it has been a great support the whole way through and I really appreciate everyone who took the time to leave a message here or over on tumblr. I had so much fun writing this one and I'm really happy that it could entertain anyone else as well!!
> 
> Huge thanks also to the friends who helped out with ideas, opinions and proofreading on some of the chapters.
> 
> <3


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